Today, while searching through old photos for a future blog post, I came across too many photos of me that were just plain ugly. I have come to the conclusion that I was one ugly little girl. This is not to say that I remained ugly…I had a few years where I could be considered a hottie. But from birth to at least 3rd grade I was not a handsome child.

tracy 10Let’s start with the wee bitty Tracy. A face only a mother could love. I was chubby, had a wide, flat nose and squinty little eyes. I always thought there were so few photos of me as a baby because by kid #4 my folks had become weary of breaking out the camera. Perhaps I was actually breaking the lens…

tracy 4I look like James Gandolfini here.

tracy 9Notice how I am strapped into the baby buggy. Don’t worry mom, nobody in their right mind would try to snatch me.

tracy 5Cute hat, cute coat. That’s where the cuteness commences.

tracy 7Which one’s the dog? Seriously, I’m torn between what’s worse; the hair, the missing teeth or that sorry excuse for a bathing suit.  What is it, a young boy’s suit from the 1920s?

tracy 8Ok, I actually like this photo of me despite the über gaudy silver and pink coat. I believe this is atop the Empire State Building with a glistening late 1960s New York City in the background.

I’m not quite sure what happened to my pre-pubescent gene pool…my brothers and sisters were cute kids. My kids were cute kids – hell, they were beautiful. But I looked…well…manly. My butch-esque hair and my hand-me-down clothes from decades earlier didn’t support my cause much either.

Nice shirt, Marsha

Nice shirt, Marsha

I don’t think I began to “blossom” until around 7th grade, and even then I was what I would consider an “acquired taste.” The dudes were never knocking down my door when I was in high school, but then again, they were mostly losers who went nowhere anyway. Regardless, the guys I liked rarely liked me and I remained boyfriend-less until I was a junior.

But that, my friends is another blog post entirely.