I, Cristina Baker Ross, claim to be an 80’s kid but being born in the later half I cannot do so, that does not mean I was deprived of Lisa Frank, Rainbow Brite, and Care Bears with pound puppies as sidekicks. I grew up in the small Georgia town of Eastman with my lovely older sister, Mariella. We were raised by my very Peruvian mother, Patricia. I will not leave “the village” unattended in further posts, because after all who are we without our family?
I had the typical childhood with a slight obsession of Hanson and the Spice Girls. I played different sports for very short amounts of time, I had a few crushes but wouldn’t dare speak to the cootie infested boys, and I BELIEVED that silver glitter eyeshadow looked great with my bushy eyebrows and slicked back ponytail, that insisted of NO LUMPS!
Along came high school and if you know anything about Sweet Valley High then you know my experience, with the exception that we rode four wheelers. My education continued to a Junior College 15 miles from my small town, the exact same one my husband attended WAY before me. After a year and a half I decided that I had to get the hell out of Dodge (Eastman’s county) and moved to Statesboro where I attended/attend Georgia Southern University. Many revelations hit me as I was able to get away from the comfort of my hometown, of course you will hear about a few of them later.
Now here is the love story. And I swear I am not endorsing Facebook as I do not have an account now. Jonathan, my husband, claims that I stalked him but I simply thought I knew him and added him. I mean, we had a ton of mutual friends and (believe it or not) I took a shameful amount of pride in having a lot of “friends” on the site. It also helped that he had a good face. I forgot I added him and he casually *cough cough* messaged me. We chatted a quick minute, he found out that I was a golfer and asked me to marry him on the spot. I said no. But the Catfish was too convincing, I accepted his request to meet in a public place. Church. I know, I know… you’re thinking of the recent guy that killed a lady he met on Christian Mingle but I assure you, my skill in karate was sharp from watching my older cousin and Japan movies. And I took my mom. Long story short, I married the Nomad Catfish.
Along came Arbor Illeana Ross. In which you will hear a lot of so I’ll keep it short. Just know that the 9 months I was pregnant she received tons of lucky charms and sherbet. And pasta. And pizza. Oh, waffles, can’t forget the waffles. As Jonathan was glowing from his first sight of our little rascal, my first words were “She has my butt chin!”