Never Seen Before...

My parents divorced when I was about 2 - I think.  I don't even really know, to be honest.  I never remember being in the house with them when I was a baby.  I never really even remember them communicating after my dad moved to Seattle, then California, then Arizona.

In fact my only memory I have of my mom trying to speak with my dad, was when I was maybe 8 or 9 and my dads' house was in Sylmar, California... Across the street from Mikki and Chico?  Is that right?  My older sister and I, when visiting, would call our mom or maybe mom called us every once in a while to check in.  Mom had been pretty persistent about wanting to talk to dad - and I remember dad not being able to talk to mom.  Within a few weeks of her asking to talk to him - a letter arrived in the mail that my step-mom read over the phone to dad while he was at work about how our pet doberman, back home (here in The Can) had been hit by a UPS truck and killed.  She had wanted to tell dad about it, so he could break it to us - and instead, we overheard it being read over the phone.  It was traumatic... though I think I reacted more to my older sisters reaction.  

But that's not what this post is about.  Damn... I went off on a downer tangent.  A "not the best memory" from Sylmar story.  There are actually quite a few great memories from the days of Tarzana and Sylmar, California...  But I digress... this post isn't meant to be about always having to check this one area of the garage for the black widows that laid their eggs there, or tap lessons, the ice cream truck, the yearly visit to Universal Studios or Disneyland and ohhhh Magic Mountain where we could mix different colors of sand in a jar... for money.  Way cool.

Okay - so as I've grown up - I've known there to be roughly TWO photos of me as a baby.  Being the second child, 5 years AFTER the first child... the novelty of a baby book, new baby clothes, and... picture taking - had long since worn off.  I was born October 3rd, though my moms original due date with me was September 30.  I was likely a New Years "Oops" baby... but that's NOT why there are only 2 baby pictures of me.  The next known picture of me is when Dad and Cheryl had baby Molly and they had a photographer that my older sister thought was uber creepy and wouldn't smile for, to the apartment they lived in, prior to the Sylmar house.  Am I spelling Sylmar right?  A responsible writer/journalist would quickly Google it, but I'm on a rant and if I go look, I'll forget where I'm going with this.  I was pretty dang cute in that photo, which I don't have a copy of - but I remember it.  One remembers the photos of themselves when there are only three in existence.

UNTIL NOW.  I received an email last week asking if I was interested in two baby pictures of me.  This email came from my old babysitter and neighbor, Theresa.  One was me with my babysitters big doll and the other was with my mom, dad, sister and Grandma Agnes.  I'm betting even my mom, dad and sister don't even know this photo exists.  I take that back - my pops will likely remember the day this picture was taken and who took it.  My mom will look at herself and remember how pretty she was and daydream about her long hair and skinny legs.  My sister will probably note that her hair in this photo, eerily resembles her most recent hairstyle...  and realize she had style even at the age of 5, almost 6.

The Dad looked at the family photo and said "I see Zach in that one."  Well... DUH... Zach looks like me.  Acts like me.  Only, Zach, the third child, has WAY more baby photos than me.  I looked at it and realized that my sister got my moms smile and that my dad looks eerily like Nicholas Cage in this pic.

Anyhow - I'm posting them for all of the world to see... or at least the 14 people that read this... to prove two things - that there is AT LEAST - ONE photo of my with  my "original" family on this earth and safely in my possession and... that I was all legs even when I was only one year old.  Also, to remind myself that the pajamas in the photo below are frickin adorable and The Dad needs to find some for me for Christmas.  Lets go!