I was really good at english …

… which was interesting considering the world I grew up in. Elaborate, ok. long, long, LONG time ago, a divorced mother met at man at a bar with an afro. Couple years go by, a wedding and house. Then YEA, me. UNFORTUNATELY, after a few years, the afro went BOOM .. and the man was gone.

Fast forward a few more years, a new man.

This one spoke SOME English. Did I mention he too had a BUNCH of kids?? Nope. Regardless, our little family … well, three kids … became eight or so. There are more kids, I just don’t know how many.

This is where the story gets fun. NONE of his children spoke English. When I say ‘just crossed the border,’ I mean it. ES-steph-ANN-eee is apparently how it’s pronounced. All those year, those lying bastards calling me Tiffany … Anyway, how my name was said is a little thing. Trying to co-exist in a house with three bedrooms,  five teenagers, a little crybaby sister and me, the poor little white girl. Funny as that is, being so pale made me invisible to all those tall bangs, high heels and babies. Guess you don’t need to know English to make a baby at 17 … four of them did it (NOT with each other) in less than a year.

Without my Grandmother, I couldn’t imagine what the hell kind of person I would of grown up to be. NOT saying childhood was bad, just that the influence wasn’t always the best … hell, when you can make two babies in less then six months. My brother once told me that he always saw me marrying a Mexican. EH. I wanted a tall, cowboy. Blonde with blue eyes. That might be hard to find in México. PLUS, I kinda like the one I have now.

Another milestone in my life. I was the only one that made it to eighteen, let alone out of high school without a baby. I apparently didn’t sign up for one. Not sure where you did that at … oh well.

Another perk, being the only one without children, I was the go to baby sitter. One sister, we’ll call her Lucy, had four kids. Her husband, her and the kids lived with two brothers and a sister (his). It was a full house. Five days a week, I was the live in nanny. For 12 hours a day, for 6 years, I raised those kids. It wasn’t that long ago that I realized how ripped off I was. It was a hour drive from home to get there, I got to sleep on the couch that was broken and eat a lot of ramen noodles. Teething, potty training, homework and more. Your basic parenting stuff. What did they get out my work, blood, sweat and tears?? $40.00. Every Friday. That’s eight dollars a day. WHOA! I know, you’re jealous.

I’ve moved on, whatever. BUT I will tell you when they didn’t come to my wedding, besides hurting my feelings, it pissed me off!!

Just rambling … if you really want to know what it was like growing up like that, just take some Home Improvement with Step by Step, George Lopez and The Cosby Show; double the kids, remove the careers and life lessons. Make Betty White a grandma and you’d have an idea. Not sure if that’s a good thing … imagination can do wonders.



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