We always had the cutest clothes and dresses to wear out everywhere. My grandmother made sure of that. My sister and I were 18 months apart so we were about the same size. My grandmother, we'll call her Mamaw, dressed us in matching outfits which led most to think that my sister and I were twins.

The memory that most have of me when I was a child was my dressing in these frilly dresses with the petticoats on them. My hair was always perfectly curled with ribbons and bows. I had naturally curly hair but Mamaw still rolled it in those foamy rollers so that each curl was in perfect line. I looked like a modern day Shirley Temple.

I would twirl my dresses around because I loved that swooshing sound that they made. My dresses were completed with white socks with the ruffles on top and ruffly white panties. This was Sunday wear, mind you, so I appropriately called my panties "Holy Panties".

An outfit any other day of the week was still always matching and the hair was always curled. I can't remember a single picture of me without my hair like that. This must be why I invested $100 in a straightener now.

I was happy right now because though I didn't have parents, I had two grandparents and it never crossed my mind that this was different than anyone else I knew.

One day while we were still living with my grandparents, my sister and I received a card and a letter in the mail from my mom. In it she said that she was moving to Kentucky for a while.

Kentucky? How random of a place is that, especially when all of our family is from Texas...

My mom always had emotional issues. Not the sit alone in a room with a glass of vodka emotional. She just sort of bottled up and did not talk to anyone. I never knew this because to me she was the funniest person ever! She was always laughing and everyone liked her a lot. But I suppose that's where I get that personality trait. I'm usually laughing and in a good mood too, but that doesn't mean that deep down inside I am not sad or angry about something.

Perhaps she was angry because now she was a 23 year old divorcee with the (indirect) responsibility of a three year old and an 18 month old. I think I would be pretty mad at the world too. But you don't just take off like that.

Nevertheless, she left and I don't know how long she was gone. I don't think it was a whole year. I just know that she was gone.

My sister and I went to Sunday school every week at our church after we moved in with our grandparents. I made a lot of friends there at my church. One girl I met when I was three is still one of my best friends today even though I have moved around a lot.

One day our teacher went around the classroom asking us what our favorite foods were. The usual pizza, nachos, hamburgers, fries, and the sort was the response from all of my friends. When the question got me I replied very matter-of-fact "well pickles and salad". The classroom erupted in a melody of "ew!" amid all of the laughter. No one really made fun of me, just thought it was different. I guess it was a strange answer from a little kid.

To this day, I try not to follow the crowd. I strive to be an individual. I don't say that in a gothic, stay at home and hate society way. I just think that one reason people like me so much is that I am different and have opinions. I'm interesting to talk to.

Pickles and salad still rank high among my favorite foods, though I have incorporated the pizzas in.

When I was three years old my parents divorced. I guess you could figure that was coming. This is the part that is very fuzzy. I was told at first that my younger sister and I lived with my mom, then my dad, then my mom. I suppose the family court system was about as fuzzy as my memory. I guess that's why they finally just handed us to my grandparents. At least there would be some sanity in our lives and we could build a good foundation.

I have another memory of my mom. She's dressed up for work and we are at my grandparents' house. I think at one time when she had custody of us, we were living with my grandparents. And ironically enough, these are my dad's parents. I think they always liked her more than their own son.

Anyways, she's wearing a long skirt with a matching sweater. This is the eighties, mind you, when everything was matchy-matchy. She is telling us goodbye and walking out the door. I don't remember if she came back or not. I have difficulty placing this memory on a time line.

All I know is that I was shuffled back and forth between households, like a game of musical chairs for about a year. And people wonder why I have difficulty trusting others. Maybe because I never knew if they were going to be there long enough.

I lived at my grandparents house for about three years with minimal contact from either parent. When they showed up, they brought tons of gifts. It's always interesting how people try to buy affection. I still had a knack for those kind of people when I got older. You can treat me like dirt but if I got something nice out of it, then it was all worth it. What an awful way to look at things.

My first memory of childhood is from when I was about two years old.

I am running in circles in the living room of an apartment though I don't recall ever living in one when I was that young. When I am recalling this image I see myself running in front of a brown couch. The sun is shining brightly through the sliding glass door. A bedroom is off to the right.

My parents are yelling at each other.

I suppose at that age I was too young to know what was going on. I just kept running in my cirlces laughing. I see my mom on the couch with her hands outstretched towards me although she is not looking at me. She is looking up and past me. I guess she is keeping her arms out towards the floor incase I give in to gravity and fall to the floor. For the moment, she is letting me be a typical two-year-old.

This is a strange first memory to have I guess, one of your parents arguing. However I suppose this image basically sets up the rest of my life.