My Baptisim

Ok, so from the other posts you get the idea that I have quite a temper. Well I was also quite a daredevil and a tomboy to boot. I proved that about an hour before I was supposed to be Baptized.

Not sure why, but as most parents, mine also thought that dressing me up and having my head dipped in holy water would keep me from having to endure fire and brimstone when the time came. So on that glorious day, Mom dressed me all pretty in pink ruffles and a bonnet and set me in my walker, in the garage with Daddy while she got ready. Well you know Daddy's and their garages...mine was preoccupied in no time and that's when I decided to make a run for it.

From the garage, the asphalt driveway had a slight decline and I was so inclined to make use of it!
I pushed as hard as my chubby little legs would go and down I went bumpity, bumpity, gaining warp speed, enjoying the wind in my face, when all of a sudden BABAM I hit a crack in the road!  Smack, tumble, and probably smack again, I was now sprawled out on the pavement skinned up dirty, dress torn, bonnet crooked and wailing like there was no tomorrow! I must have REALLY scared the shit out of Daddy because from what I heard..he was white as a ghost!

By that time, we had about 15 minutes to get to the church. Mommy brushed me off tried to make me look presentable, stop me from crying (which was nearly impossible as I kept flashing back to that horrible moment) and she did this as Daddy drove to the church.

Well no worries, we got there in time, I got my head dipped then the minister held me high for all the congregation to see!
I was a sight! Mommy and Daddy just hung their heads, as dirty, torn, skinned up little me let out another blood curdling wail! I don't remember any stories of ever attending that church again.

The new neighborhood and the neighbors

The neighborhood was pretty cool! Mom and I went exploring. Pushing my stroller down the newly paved sidewalk, jibber jabbing to all the neighbors ( Mom could REALLY talk but that's another story) introducing me to several other girls my age who to this day are still friends.

 One was Lorraine, she was a little younger but oh so cute. Now it's ok if I say that but when Mom said that, my jealousy came bubbling up along with a tantrum or two.(you will hear of many more to follow) Don't worry, I finally learned to forgive her. Lorraine's parents were from Germany...I loved the accent and I was able to learn a little German over the years!

The other girl was Sherry. A cute little girl, my age with the most beautiful orange hair! Her and I started preschool together and on to Kindergarten. We had our own special song...it was called "we're going to the dairy" we sang it over and over and over and.....well you know. She moved before we started first grade but that didn't stop our friendship.

The first year

Of course I don't remember, but after viewing several photos and recollecting stories that I heard, my first year was pretty uneventful. I continued to poop , pee, spit up and sleep. Now there were some colicky nights, but knowing me they were for my entertainment purposes only. Mommy and Daddy are quite funny with no sleep and at their wits end.

Oh..there was the move from our one bedroom apartment in Pasadena to our new three bedroom house in Glendora. Can't believe I almost forgot that as it was quite stressful. Supervising those grownups on getting my toys moved safely can take a lot out of a kid!

My story begins

Let's start at zero. July 2, 1962. A beautiful, warm and sunny Summer day in Pasadena Calif. A proud Mother and Father brought home a little bundle of joy (me). They fussed and cooed, made silly faces and smothered me in kisses. I pooped, spit up and cried. They had BIG plans for me, their little princess. Me, I had an agenda of my own...and thus begins my story.