When I was born, I didn’t fit into any of the beauty standards of my grandmother’s time. In olden China, snow white skin, tiny feet, and petiteness were considered beautiful. My skin was tan, and covered with a thick layer of drool. My feet were huge, and I can still thank my dad today for my size 10 boots. I wasn’t a petite baby, instead, I was nine pounds. The first word that I ever spoke was, “More!”, and because of this, I had an impressive collection of nicknames, including “Big Mac”. Even though my looks might of been unconventional, my parents say that I was the happiest baby that they’ve ever seen. I smiled and giggled at everything, and loved to play with my sister.

As a baby, the word that all my relatives described me was, “??”, which means “happy” in Chinese. I had a big smile compared to my chubby body, and I put my mouth to use with my favorite hobby, chewing. During my first years of life, my parents say that I drooled and gnawed on many things, especially items that I wasn’t suppose to. If my sister didn’t hide her dolls, she might find tiny bite marks on their heads the next day. When interviewing my parents about my first year, my dad joked that I was, “much better than now.” I was always cheerful, healthy, and heavy. As a baby, my relatives described me as a big sleeper, another trait from my father. Unlike other babies, I could doze peacefully for hours on end, and would be very grumpy if I didn’t get enough sleep. Even today, I’m extremely ill-tempered without sleep. When I was seven months old, my mom became absolutely frantic, because I had been lying in my crib for almost 24 hours. My nanny had been watching me, and called my mom when she noticed that I wasn’t moving. After driving an hour home from work, my mom sighed, realizing that I was just in deep sleep. After gently shaking me a few times, I was up again, giggling and drooling. As a baby, I was heavy, happy, and would never stop grinning.

My name has some interesting history behind it. When my sister was younger, she was more reserved and non-talkative. My parents joked about how funny it would be to have two completely different daughters, so when they saw the name, “Gabrielle”, in the name book, they had to choose it. They thought that by calling me “Gabbie”, I would be more talkative. Well, they were right. I was a bold baby who could babble nonsense for hours on end. If someone said a word I found amusing, I would repeat it over and over again. That’s why my parents call be “bug”, because I would bug everyone! I don’t mind this nickname, because I’ve had it for so long. My middle name is Ginger. My mother’s maiden name was Jiang, which translates into ginger root. Since I have my father’s last name, my parents thought it would be appropriate to have my mom’s name for my middle name. The funny thing is, I love ginger. I would much rather have a hot cup of ginger tea than soda, and my favorite candies are ginger chews. Another nickname that I have is,”Ji?ozi”, which are also known as dumplings. My sister is called, “B?ozi”, a type of steamed buns. In China, people call their children B?ozi, Ji?ozi, and Húntún. These are all pieces of dough that are stuffed with various fillings. Since each of these foods are different sizes, with B?ozi being the biggest, and Húntún being the smallest, Chinese parents call their children these names depending on how old they are. My parents and their siblings had these nicknames, and their parents’ siblings had them, too. I like these nicknames, because it has allowed me to explore my culture more. Plus, it’s an excuse to eat more dumplings. My parents chose my name to represent both sides of my family.

I fit in well with Cecilia, my sister. Although there’s a big age difference between us, our bond is inseparable. When my sister was a child, she saw the movie, My Neighbor Totoro, and started to beg my parents for a sister to have adventures with. When my mom told my sister that she was pregnant, Cecilia practically leapt for joy. In the nine months that she had to wait, she was ecstatic, asking my mom how much longer it would take, like a toddler on a road trip. However, when my sister saw me for the first time, she whispered, “Mom, she looks like a potato.” Although she didn’t initially like me, we later bonded. She sewed me small outfits, read me books, and made me play games with her. My mom says that I was like her doll. When I started to talk, she tried to get me to say her nickname, “Cee Cee”. Although I could utter “mama” and “dada”, the closest thing I could get to Cee Cee was “edo”. My sister got tired of trying to teach me, and that name stuck. I still call her Edo today. I always had her hand me downs to wear, and my parents always joked about not having to buy any clothes. When Cecilia went to high school, she attended IMSA, a residential school in Aurora. Once a week, my parents and I would drive to pick her up, and she would stay in our house over the weekend. During this time, I was only six, and didn’t understand why she had to leave. I would throw tantrums, and beg her to stay. It was even worse when she left for college, I was like an only child. Being by myself was lonely, but with the help of the internet, we still were able to communicate. I sent her weekly emails about life and school. Although my sister didn’t immediately like me when I was born, we now have an inseperable bond.

When I was born, a unique individual entered the world. The first few years of my life were happy. I always smiled and giggled at everything, and had a sister who would use me as her doll. My family members described me as a talkative infant. I soaked up information like a sponge, repeating words that I’d heard to everyone that would listen, so much that my dad started to call me “bug”, because I bugged everyone. I never cried, instead, I could sleep on and on for hours. Although I was a chubby drooler, I had loving parents that didn’t care (and my sister, who was totally grossed out.) I’m thankful to have been born to such a loving family.