The Truth Comes Out

All my life, I think I've had a little different perspective and completely different upbringing than my older siblings. As I've gotten older and heard stories from my siblings and shared my experiences, we've laughed over the silly things. My siblings always called me the spoiled one, the baby of the family and that I could do no wrong. Well, I may have been the cutest baby sister, yes, but I also was an only child for a long time, at least through elementary school, junior high, high school and all of college. I walked to elementary school by myself, got myself up and going during my K-12 grades of school while mom worked, and rode my bike to tennis lessons during the summer.

One summer my mom and I were sorting through all our family pictures, divvying them into piles who they belong to in an effort to give everyone pictures of their childhoods. My older brother and sisters piles were quite large, getting smaller with Kirsten and Missy, and mine started after kindergarten and school pictures. My mom put a "baby" picture on my pile, I paused, and looking at it closely, it was quite similar, if not identical to pictures in Missy's pile.

"Mom, this isn't me." I stated.

"Oh, yes it is" she replied.

"Mom, no it's not."

"Oh, it's fine, it's a baby picture, it's fine."

So, I do have a baby picture in my possession... it's not me...

but I have a baby picture, none-the-less.

Here it is, years later, and I find myself in a fit of laughter as another unique moment has presented itself.

My drivers license expired on my birthday two months ago, and I went to get it renewed but now you need a birth certificate or a certified copy to get the plastic permanent one. Well, I didn't have that in my immediate possession and here it is, almost two months later and I realize I never took my certified copy back to the DMV.

I went upstairs and remembering my dad had given me my birth certificate a few years ago, found it quietly filed away under "Cindi."

It's quite an old document, dated Aug 20, 1980. It's black with white writing and as I'm enjoying reading through the contents, I notice the weight is in grams.

Hmm, interesting.

I get on the computer to convert grams to pounds and ounces... My mother always told me I was born at 6 pounds and 3 ounces. I always thought I was a little baby, being born 2 weeks early. I was told I was due to come in January, but came early on Christmas Eve... anyway, back to the birth weight story...

I type into the cool weight converter 3430 grams,

which is...

7 pounds 8.99 ounces

Hmm, sorry to all the people I've told throughout my life that I weighed a lot less...

Oh, mom! I am thoroughly enjoying this literal laugh out loud moment tonight.

Love you mommy!