Day 1: Me

I was born on November 8, 1974 at Memorial Hospital in Dumas, Texas--my parents' second child and second daughter, arriving a little over 3 1/2 years after my sister Donna. It was a Friday night when I entered the world--right around 9:45 p.m. My mom jokes that I interrupted her watching of "The Rockford Files"--she had to be wheeled to the delivery room just as the big chase scene started. I enjoyed the rank of "Baby" for 13 short months until my sister Amy came along. No hard feelings though. She was what they call a "pleasant surprise." And in the end, it wasn't too bad having a sister so close in age. It was good to have that partner-in-crime as a teenager.
(Age 1 or so--I think the black dog is my grandparents' dog Belle. Not sure who the other one was but it doesn't look thrilled with the loving pets it's receiving.)

I think I had a fairly unremarkable childhood as far as childhoods go. Except for the one little part about my father dying when I was 2 1/2 years old. He was 30, it was cancer, my sisters were 6 and 18 months, and no I don't remember anything about him. That's really about all there is to say about that. I did go through the grief process when I was about 15--I remember being very angry that I had this thing that made me different and really wished my parents had just divorced like everyone else's parents. It's easier to explain divorce than death. But I was very fortunate that my mom married a man who stepped into the role of Dad for three little girls. I know it definitely wasn't easy for him but, as mom reminded him from time to time when we were teenagers, he knew what he was in for when they got married. And I appreciate him.
(We have lots of pictures throughout the years where my sisters are staring at me like this--I tend to "act out for attention" because I'm a middle child or so I've been told. I think it's more that I can be a wee bit obnoxious. And I love that 7-year-old Donna is wearing a one-piece pantsuit. How 1978 chic.)
(I loved this tunnel. We played with it until it fell apart. I bought Abigail a tunnel in hopes that she would love it as much as we loved this one.)

As a child, I was bookish, a ham at home but not outside, a quiet student, always a little overly-cautious about everything, sensible, very focused on being a good kid and a good student. I played t-ball because it was the thing to do in 1st & 2nd grade definitely not because I was good at it, I was in Girl Scouts, took piano lessons, read lots of books, played outside, climbed trees, invented games with all the other neighborhood children, played with my friends and my Barbies, which I reluctantly put away when every other girl in my class was doing the same thing. Like I said, nothing very exceptional but a very good childhood. It's always interesting to me that while I definitely do remember the fights and yelling and rough times, and there was plenty of that which doesn't need to be rehashed here, I also remember lots of laughter, family and fun. I guess it all evens out eventually.
(Showing off my YMCA swim badge. I don't think I ever progressed very far past the Tadpole level--maybe Guppie but that's about it.)
(I'm in 5th grade here and yes, I cut my own bangs. It started out as a trim the night before the church Christmas pageant and I couldn't get them even. So I kept cutting. This was the end result. But, placing appropriate blame, I did ask Donna to help me but she WOULDN'T GET OFF THE PHONE. So, really, it's all her fault. Or something like that. Mom & Dad were out at a Christmas dinner and were, um, surprised when they came home to this hairdo on their middle child. Oh, and Amy can mock all she wants but she did the same thing--when she was 17. )

We moved to Texline just before I started 8th grade and I was absolutely convinced my parents had completely ruined my life. It turned out that they hadn't. And it probably was a pretty good thing for me in the end. I "blossomed," I "came out of my shell," I started talking and didn't stop. Living in a town of 450 and attending a high school with 50 students meant I got to be involved in everything. It didn't matter that I wasn't the best at any of it--if there was a group to join, I joined it. I played basketball, I played tennis, I ran cross country one year and then decided that it was definitely not the sport for me. I was in the drama club (not just a drama queen), I participated in the academic contests, I was in FHA. I won English Student of the Year four years running, I was voted Most Likely to Succeed, Most Versatile, Most Talented. I continued piano lessons until the end of my junior year of high school and participated in various music competitions and occasionally filled in as the pianist at church. I hated that though--even though everyone was always so complimentary, it just made me a nervous wreck to do it. For my after-school job, I taught piano lessons for a few years. I put lots of miles on my car driving up and down Main Street in Clayton and spent lots of money on Cokes at the Sonic. I flirted, fussed, flounced, cried, laughed, and while I wouldn't want to do it again, I enjoyed being a teenager for the most part.
(Christmas during my 8th grade year (1988). I couldn't put the hat on flat because then it might mush those carefully crafted, AquaNetted-within-an-inch-of-their-life bangs. The band was a black and white houndstooth pattern that matched my dress. I actually still own the hat but not the dress. I think my left leg might fit into the dress.)
(During Spirit Week '93 when I was a senior and Amy was a junior. Peace, love, and beat Hartley.)

Off to college--University of North Texas as a freshman; Texas Tech for the final three years. I've discussed my reasons for not going to Tech initially but mostly it boils down to the drama queen thing. But as all things go, it worked out in the end. I didn't enjoy UNT, mostly because I didn't want to be there not as a reflection on the school, and happily transferred at the end of the spring semester. For as much as I was involved in high school, I wasn't involved in college. I didn't join any clubs, groups, sororities, or anything. I went to my classes, I went to work at my little part-time job, I hung out with Amy and my friends. Looking back, I wish I had done more but can't change the past. Initially, I started college thinking I wanted to go into journalism--I'd worked for the local newspaper in Clayton one summer--but decided after a semester that I didn't think print journalism was what I wanted to do with my life. I transferred to Tech as an English major and when told I needed to declare a major focus, stammered out "Education!" There was some thought put into that statement--my dad had just been out of work for 9 months and I remember thinking that my mom, a teacher, had never been fired. So it was all about job security that I graduated as an English major with a secondary education minor. But it's turned out to be a good choice.
(Labor Day, 1997. With my friend Stephanie, whom I met at UNT--Paul still makes fun because Steph and I didn't really look at the Monet exhibit so much as talk while walking by the paintings.)

I taught for a year in Texas before moving to ABQ to pursue my master's degree in Secondary Education and pursue that wedding ring. I got them both in 1999. We moved into our house during the summer of 2000. I started work on my Library Science endorsement in 2001 and became the school librarian in the fall of 2003. And we've lived happily ever after.

Or something like that.

(At Heron Lake, where Paul's parents have a cabin. And, no, Paul's not standing on a rock. I'm really that short standing next to him.)