faway

My mom always says that my brother and me were the longest, darkest and hairiest babies in the hospital. She also says we were ugly babies. I always thought that was so funny. If you ask her, ugly baby grows into a pretty/handsome adult, like me and my brother. I guess you know what pretty babies grow up to be,lol. Would that make me and my brother pretty? Would that make my beautiful son an ugly man? Ha! Is this a trick question!? I like myself. I like almost everything about my accept weight issue. So maybe my mom was almost, maybe, sometimes right! ...and I do think my brother is quite handsome. So I guess I will hide my ugly son in the closet. No, I will NOT make my son a Harry Potter, (though, I will not stop drawing lightning on his forehead with my eyeliner!!)

Oh man,how do I get myself out of this mess now? I just wanted to start with something my mom said about me from her earliest memories! No, I do not believe that pretty babies grow up to be ugly or vice versa. And my son is gorgeous. Amen.
My brother was a very smart baby. My mom didn't want a boy. And she did not want him to have dark hair, or dark eyes. She wanted a little blond, curly hair (possibly half way down her back) blue-eyed girl. But she fell in love with him very soon. He became her world, just like my baby became mine. Anyway, he was a very smart baby, an observer, just like my husband was when he was little. I think my baby is a perfect mix of both of us, little of an observer like his daddy, and a little hysteric like his mama. Me on the other hand, did not come out with blond hair, and my eyes became two black speckles almost immediately. I did however have long hair, but no curls, and it was black.
My own first memories from then are non existent. In general, my memory sucks. I can barely remember Pythagoras Theorem. How pathetic is that!? I want to go back to school (not college, like High School). I need to relearn everything. One of first memories I do have is from summer before I went to first grade. I was turning six in July, and I was on the coast of Croatia with my family, staying at my Grandma's and Grandpa's house. My dad just bought me couple of dresses (they always dressed me really pretty, but not so much in dresses, I was a little tomboy). One was dark blue with white navy collar. With it I got a hair clip in shape of a white rose, to put in my hair. The other one was a pattern of tiny white and baby pink squares, and top of it was like overalls. I loved that one. I wore it on my sixth birthday. The only other thing that I remember from then was the yard of the house, and the most extraordinary view from the roof of the house. You could see the whole city from there and Islands in the Adriatic Sea. I miss it so much. My Grandma had to sell the house about 15 years ago, when my Grandpa died and she came to live with us in Zagreb, which is located in continental Croatia.
That house had the most beautiful smell in the world. Smell of the sea, my grandma, and her cooking. Floors were marble and it was the best feeling walking on it barefoot in the middle of the hot summer. My Grandma always had a tangerine juice in her house for me and my brother, and she always had the best Dalmatian prosciutto and lamb waiting for us on the first day we came there. She also always allowed me to play in her food storage room, and when I spilled those little pasta stars that you put in the soup, she didn't get mad at me, and she wouldn't let mom yell at me. I love her so much, it is hard being such a long way from home. She smells the best, not like old people, and since I can remember, whenever I saw her, I would stuck my nose in her neck to soak it all in...
The other dress I got from my father that summer, I wore for first day of school. Or better to say, the night before, when you come with your family. Then the older kids from school have a show, afterwords they sort you out to classes where you go to sit with your teacher and students for a little bit to meat before you go home and 'real' school starts. I remember crying like a total brat, not wanting to go to school, I was not looking forward to it like other kids. I wasn't ready for homework and all that stuff. I wanted to be outside with my friends playing dodge ball,catching frogs and all other stuff we loved to do. I felt like the world was coming to an end. I hid in one of the girl's school bathrooms so they (the teacher, i don't know how I got that idea...don't take me away. In my silly head I thought if I hide and they don't find me that night, I don't have to go back. But my mom did find me, and I had to go line up all cried up. I guess it was a little embarrassing, for her, I must admit it. So they put me in the classroom with 30 or so other kids and introduced me to my teacher. I HATED it. They made me write on paper how much is 1+1,1-1, 1x1 and 1/1. HELLO!? I didn't know that? When was I supposed to learn that!? I spent my days playing outside with kids, Kindergarten and school system is so much different back home that I didn't go to anything before first grade accept half a year of Preschool. There we drew, fed birds on walks outside, played doctors and mechanics, and slept. Well yeah, they slept. I was lying down heating the world, wanting to go home and play outside with my friends. I guess I do have that memory after all. My mom told me I hated it so much that I never told her the last day of it we had a show for parents, where we performed some songs I guess. She brought me there in my regular t-shirt and shorts, to find everything decorated and everyone dressed up. She said that was probably my revenge for her making me go there. I am fawesome!
Well, the part of the problem with all this now, as I am writing and trying to remember, is that I am remembering. Which is great. But I can't just keep writing forever, even though I want to put it down, so in couple of years if I don't remember it anymore, I will have it here. So, I will stop for today, and see if I want to continue it tomorrow. My belly hurts and I need to go make a sandwich and feed my precious.
Ma-halo