The Beginning

I was born on April 18th, 1993 to my mother, Gloria, and my father, Leonardo.

Both of my parents are Mexican immigrants, although both of them had been in the US for at least a couple of decades before I was born. I'm a little fuzzy on the details of immigration, because the laws really sound like people pull them out of their butts on site. They're both citizens now, so you can unclench your anti-immigration butt holes.

Ironically, my mother was visiting her family down Reynosa, MX because she wouldn't be able to visit them for awhile since I was about to be born and babies are hardcore needy. My dad was back home in Houston, working, as always, at the time of her visit. The part that's ironic is that my mother went into labor when she was crossing the border and being driven to the airport or whatever travel service she was gong to use to head back home. So, my aunt/cousin person, (she's the daughter of my mother's aunt. So, whatever that's called) who was driving her, immediately headed to the closest hospital, which happened to be a clinic in Hidalgo, TX. Naturally, my father missed my birth, and subsequently the first few weeks of my life, because like I said before, babies are needy little suckers. Also, laws.

I spent the first few weeks of my life surrounded by my aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends, and my grandfather. My mother has 11 siblings. Only 3 of them are male and only one of my aunts wasn't living in Reynosa, TX. My mother and I stayed and my grandfathers modest little home until my birth certificate came in. We had to wait for it, because we have all these silly rules confining us to certain sections of land separated by borders that are only figments of our imagination.

I was totally spoiled. Everyone adored me because I was not a fussy child. Needy, sure, I mean I was in a nice confined warm, wet, womb for 9ish months, and then all of sudden things were bright, cold, dry, and loud. I mean, I actually had to eat! What a turn of events that must be for babies.

I rarely cried when I was a baby, unless you screwed something up, like made me cold, or forgot to feed me. Otherwise I was a chill baby who loved being coddled by several random strangers who later turned out to be family.

Eventually, I finally made it home to my father and our house. I continued to be a quiet baby who very rarely cried, so that must have been heavenly for my parents. At least my mom. She's the second oldest, so you can imagine all the babies she's had to take care of over the years prior to me.

Unfortunately, my father's side of the family isn't as loving as my mother's family. They are rather distant, cold, and don't really know how to coddle anyone. Kind if sad, really. There was no constant attention put on me, which was fine. I spent a lot of quality time with my mother in my early life. Also sleeping, that's what baby Ell and I share a lot in common with sleeping everywhere and sticking to one place and position once we found the perfect place.

Next post I'll try to insert a photo of me sleeping on the top of our sofa's cushions. Don't worry I sleep like a rock. Both in the manner that I don't wake up to anything, even hurricanes but that's a story for later, and I barely move. At least in my early years and in my later years. I had a few restless years, but again a story for another time.

I was a very agreeable baby. I'm told I ate everything given to me and I loved my bottle. The only thing that I was not down with as a baby, were pacifiers. There was nothing passive about those things. They were creations full of lies and deceit. Like I said, I loved my bottle. I loved my bottle because I loved my milk. Guess what pacifiers are? Liars, because they contain no milk. I'm told I would suck the pacifier a few times and when nothing would come out I would spit that deceitful contraption out and eventually I'd outright refuse to have it anywhere near my mouth if there was not bottle attached to it. I imagine I had very strong feelings about pacifiers as a baby, so I will respect baby Ell's feelings and try to convey the strong feelings of betrayal that pacifiers held for me at that age.

Even as a baby I was a stubborn person when it came to things I felt very strongly about, like the abominations that are pacifiers. I secretly hope that when I have a baby, they'll also hate pacifiers. Knowing my luck, though, I'm sure they'll think pacifiers are the best thing to happen since warm blankets.

That's about all I can think about when it comes to the super early days of my life. I was a stubborn baby when it came to things I felt strongly about, but otherwise I was a calm baby who wasn't allergic to anything and was very agreeable.

Next time I'll talk about my years as a toddler which should include some fun photos.

Until then, thanks for reading!

Ell

Introduction

Hello there lovely readers!

I've only typed four words and already I've made a typo, sign of only good things to come!

My name is Elidee, although I'll usually use Ell when referring to myself. It just sounds less formal. 

This blog is going to be a recap of my life, so a living memoir I guess you could say, since I have every intention of keeping up with it once I catch up to the present. It's going to start at the very beginning of my life, well, when I came out of the womb and end when I stop posting.

My reasoning for this, you may ask, is for both posterity and myself. For the sake of posterity on the off chance one of you out there learns from my many, many, many mistakes. Including my grammar and syntax, which I assure you are atrocious. Let's take a moment to thank modern day for making spell check a requirement for all writing applications, I still shudder at the days when only MS word has spell check. 

It's for myself in the sense that I'll have something to look back on in my life to laugh and remember when I start to forget some of my early memories and also on the off chance I die young it'll give my loved ones something to look back at when they're feeling sad and laugh at my stupidity, because I assure there's been a lot of that in my life. 

I tend to think and mentally prepare myself for the worst. I think up the most drastic and improbable situations and I work through solutions in my head, just in case it happens. If it doesn't happen, no harm no foul. If it does happen, then I'll be less panicked and more ready to act. I do this a lot with driving, but that's a story you'll just have to wait to hear, well, read.

Commas are a thing I really like to use. I blame it on a book I tried reading in 8th grade, that was way above my reading level and also really boring, and it had a sentence about 15 pages in that was over a page long. I kid you not, from period to period it was close to a page and a half. That author was very liberal with their semi-colons, colons, commas, and <---- what ever these are called. After that I learned that as long as a sentence made sense, you could throw commas all over the place. Now, you'll rarely see semicolons from me because in 5th grade I was never taught what they were let alone how to use them properly and I didn't learn their function until 11th grade. Public school education! 

Sorry if you cringe at bad grammar but I actually don't know any better, and at this point I'm not 100% I can change my ways, but if you tell me something I consistently get wrong, I'll try to fix it.

Anyways, I look forward to remembering my life and I'll try to get some pictures on here when they fit into the story. 

I also have another public blog connected to this account. Feel free to read it, although I warn you, it's a whole lot of text walls of pure teen angst. Thankfully blogger has evolved and I don't have to html <.p> <./p> to get things in a readable format. I'm also no longer an angsty teen. Now I'm more of a broke college student swimming in debt!

Thanks for reading everyone!

Ell