AN: Before we begin, I wanted to quickly clarify the premise and purpose of this project. The story will be in the format of blog posts written by Gabriella. The nightly updates will resemble her real life day-to-day writing and give me a chance to write and post more. I have a bad habit of holding onto material because it never feels ready or good enough. My hope is that posting at least something daily, no matter the length or quality, I will overcome this posting anxiety. I hope you enjoy the story! Reviews are highly appreciated.

November 28th, 2019

I wasn't expecting to have to start over so soon. I still had about fifty blank pages left in my diary before Franky tore it to pieces. I like to reminisce before my words soak onto the final few pages and the whole journal is drowned in my thoughts, cover to cover. It's a peaceful routine to prepare myself for when I open up again in the next empty book. But now I'm suddenly back at the start all over again. The best thing about going digital (besides being impossible to shred) is I have endless 'pages'. I might never need to start over again.

So let's do this right. This is my first post and (hopefully) my final introduction. Get comfortable. There's a lot of baggage to unpack.

My name's Gabriella Montez. I'm from all over. I've lived in Europe, Asia, Africa, and various spots across the continental United States. We have to move every time my dad gets re-stationed. He's in the Air Force. Mom and I take care of my brothers at home while I do my schoolwork online. This way she's not constantly leaving jobs and I'm not always the new kid like some torturous Groundhog Day hell.

My dad was raised in Honduras before moving to the US when he turned eighteen. His dad, my grandfather, came from a long line of farmers dating as far back as they could count the generations. The whole Montez family lived together on the countryside; there were uncles, aunts, cousins, elders, his parents, and his baby sister. But once the nearby city grew in size and a college was established, most of his relatives were pulled off the family farm to go to school instead. After my grandfather died of a heart attack when my dad was still a boy, nobody was left to tend to the crops. It was simply too much work for those who had remained, so his mom got a tiny apartment in the city for the herself, him, and his baby sister. The electricity and plumbing were terribly unreliable, and many times they could only eat one meal a day.

The most interesting thing about my dad is he's a genius. He made a functioning radio using scraps he found on the street and learned to steal the signal for network television on their TV just because he wanted to watch Sunday morning cartoons. He picked up on many languages spoken in the city and is currently fluent in seven. Needless to say, he excelled in school. His performance was so impressive he had a full ride scholarship with the opportunity to study in the United States. He spent a year in New York City studying at Columbia, which was where he met my mom.

Mom came from the opposite part of the world - both literally and figuratively. She was from a very, very affluent family in upstate New York. She competed in horse racing and danced ballet with an Olympic-level trainer. The house was one of the nicest in the neighborhood – East Hampton. The Christmas she brought home my father from college, her parents were unimpressed. He had cleaned himself up as well as he could, but all they saw was a poor foreigner looking for a ticket to stay in the US.

He proposed the day before he had to return to Honduras and returned again on a fiancé visa. They described this engagement period as torturous. Her family kept saying he was only looking for a green card, while his guilted him for leaving his mother and sister behind for a better life in the states. Despite what everyone said, they married.

They would never admit it, but I'm pretty sure I was an accident. The timing was just too inconvenient with my Honduran family's visa issues, not to forget my parents' constant relocating (although I guess that's never changed). What tips me off is the age gap between me and my brothers. It was a whole eight years before the next one, and since then they've been coming out rapid fire.

Paul is nearly eight now, but is as helpless as a newborn. Maybe that's too harsh. I think he only pretends to be dumb because he's learned mom will always come to the rescue. He doesn't know how to fold laundry, or load the dishes, or where anything goes. He just plays on his laptop all the time. I don't know when he studies on it. I've never seen the homeschooling software on his screen. I wouldn't be surprised if he fails and gets left behind.

Wyatt is five and a non-stop neutron star of energy. He's always looking for someone to play with, and that usually falls between Paul and me. His go-to play pretend include dinosaurs, spies, soldiers, police, and lions. Sometimes he'll want Legos or Hot Wheels, but that's very short-lived. He still gets the occasional tantrum at the dentist, but for the most part he's an easy kid.

Then there's the cutest little nightmare you'll ever see – Franky. At only two-and-a-half years of life behind him, he can't know any better. His favorite word is "mine" and his least favorite is "no." Sometimes he's adorable, but other times it's best to let mom deal with his toddler meltdowns.

The only one left is Ian. He's seven months old and crawling now. No words yet. Very giggly and smelly.

Thanksgiving is today, but it feels like a normal day here in Italy. Not that I'm ultra-patriotic anyways. I don't feel strongly American with how much we're abroad. I feel more like a citizen of the world if anything. There are whispers we might be returning to the US again soon. I never believe it until we're pulling up to the next, newest house. Things get canceled and rearranged all the time in this family.

Mom is yelling for me to bathe Franky. I have homework to submit by midnight, so I probably won't be able to post again until tomorrow.

If anyone finds this…I hope you have a good night, wherever you are in the world.

- Gabriella Montez

AN: Day 1 is complete! Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you thought in a review. And Happy Thanksgiving everyone!