I was born 20 months after my older sister. When I was little, you still put babies to sleep on their fronts (which I think caused my love for front sleeping for many years).
I was born in California, but my first memories are from Colorado, where we lived for a couple years in the mid-80s. On our first day in the new Colorado house, I fell down the stairs. Tall, wooden stairs. That is my first memory.
I have a few other spotty memories of Colorado. Playing in the big backyard, driving around in the old blue Corolla, eating granola in the kitchen. The most vivid Colorado memory I have in getting stuck in the snow.
Jessica and I were eager to get out in the freshly fallen snow. Mom dressed us in our snow suits and sent us into the backyard to play. The snow was fairly deep for a 3 year old, up to my chest. And after a bit, I was stuck. I started crying and my mitten fell off. Either Jessica went for help, or my mom sent my dad to fetch me.
I think went we were young, probably before Rebecca was born, were the times Jessica and I got on best. She made up all sorts of imaginary games for us to play.
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