On October 7, 1962, my mom gave birth to me in Riverside, California. It was a long road to get there. Let me explain. She was married in Cuba to Julio, my father. All her siblings and parents had escaped to America. My grandparents lost everything to Castro. My mom was very young and when she discovered she was expecting a baby, she knew she wanted that baby to be born in a place where there was freedom. She was finally able to leave (by herself) 9 months along and going to a brand new world. I was born the day after she arrived. The unusual circumstances of my birth is one that my mom tells often. She started having labor pains on the airplane, but didn't know a word of english. She was terrified and all alone. Coincidentally, in the same hospital I was born, my grandfather was there after suffering a heart attack. I was the first grandchild born to Josephine and Jose Carrio and my mom claims that after my grandfather got to see me, it saved him. I'm not sure that's true, but it's a good story.
Well, my sweet teenager - those two words usually don't go together, now do they? - she brought me breakfast in bed at 6 am. It was great cause I just leisurely stayed in bed and watched "A Baby Story". How appropriate! I really should have gotten up and worked out, but alas, it was my birthday! There's no working out on your birthday, it's against the law.
I have been trying really hard to eat clean most of the time, but today I'm going to treat myself. Just as there is no working out on your birthday, it's also against the law to be on a diet on your birthday. Although I want to emphasize I'm not on a "diet". I have been dieting for the last 20 years and it doesn't work. Believe me. I just try to eat "clean" most of the time. Eating clean means eating stuff that is not processed and hardly any sugar and whole grains. So I guess Frosted Flakes are off the menu.... dang.
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