ME!

Just thought it would be fun to show some pictures of myself  when I was a little girl.  Of course in that process, I will humiliate my siblings and parents with some "not-so-stylish" photos!

Here I am with my dear little brother, John.  This was my first day of kindergarten... YES!  I had a broken arm and not my first broken bone either!  I broke my first bone, collarbone.. can't remember which one, when I was just 1 year old.  When I was the ripe old age of 2, I broke the other collarbone.  I don't remember these events, but I do remember later on in my Kindergarten year tripping and cutting my forehead open on the coffee table.  My friend Cheryl Wagner and I were dancing (I know, you can't imagine ME.. DANCING?? OH and I think "dancing" is the reason for broken collarbone #2!) and the coffee table got in my way.  

Blood running down into my eyes, my brave mother, who was now getting used to the "green hospital" and Dr. Salas, sat and held me while we waited in the "emergency room".  I remember the Dr. speaking English in his strong Spanish accent about how brave I was, while sticking a needle between my eyes to numb the area, then using a curved needle (I watched him through dried bloodied eyes) and sewed my head together again.  I remember I didn't fight him, and I didn't cry while he did all of this.  It surprises me I remember so much of it, but I was determined NOT to cry.  Brave is what I was going to be for good 'ol Doctor Salas who at one time said "She is the champion of broken bones, yes, the CHAMPION".  I think that was after I chipped my elbow a few years later. 

Family Home Evening was a big part of my childhood. I can't remember the lesson, but I had a scribbled on my crown and Nancy (my sister sitting on the arm of the couch) had a pretty tiara!  I bet mine was done REALLY fast compared to the others.  (left to right: Brian, John, my DAD, Me and Nancy)  I remember my mom being the Den Mother of my brothers Cub Scouts.  My Mom told me that I would say "My Mom is the dumb mother of the scrub scouts".  I realize now that I cursed myself. I now have 4 boys who all have been cub scouts, and I have been the dumb mother FOR SURE! 

What a great picture! I love this because my parents look sooooo young! (left to right: Nancy, Mom, Me on her lap, Dad, John on his lap, and Brian)
I will openly admit that those are MY PANTIES showing!  I was NOT a prissy girl, I hated dresses and sitting still for photos was NOT my favorite thing to do.  I imagine myself squirming out of my mothers arms to the floor and running off as fast as I could after the camera snapped.  John, on the other hand, probably took another nap.  Poor John was always having to wait for Mom to take care of me first because I couldn't wait!   

Here we are, a little older, and probably not as wise as I should have been.  The red around my lips is all chapped because I would sit and lick my lips over and over again until they were sore.  My Dad always put the yucky Bistix on my lips that would sting until tears came.  My parents now believe that it was probably a food allergy.  I think that could have been it, but now that I know I suffer from anxiety and depression, it could have been an allergy to start with then ended up being a nervous habit.  I  am sure I would have been the poster child for ADHD if they had known about it then. I could never concentrate on anything and it was so frustrating!!  John read before me, he would correct my reading while I did my homework from Kindergarten and he was only 4.  Of course that didn't change when we got into high school.   He could do my chemistry better than I could.  I think the only reason I never had to redo a grade was my knowledge that if I did, I would have to be in my little smarty-pants- brothers class with him!  UGH!  No way! 
We did have our moments,  John and I, we had the same friends (most of the time) except when I was chasing boys!  He tried to blackmail me a few times, but then I discovered a few secrets of his! We were only 20 months apart in age, but sometimes it felt like twins!
All in all, I had a wonderful childhood living in a place so unique.  I am thankful for my heritage.  Only a few can say that they were born and raised in Mexico, but have no hispanic blood, speaking english and spanish while attending an LDS (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints, aka... Mormon) school system.  I love the Mexican culture and consider it part of my culture.  Someone once told me.. "Gee, I am glad I am not in your shoes, I would be so confused as to what race or culture I belonged to.  You are not accepted in the Mexican culture cause you are white, but then you really don't completely fit into the white culture either."  This is very true. Even more confusing when I married a catholic- born, east-coast, big city boy who didn't realize what a white, farmer/ranchers daughter, from mexico, LDS grown, small-town, hic-from-the-stix, girl could be like.  CRAZY... just plain CRAZY!!