Valentin Chmerkovskiy - Ill Never Change My Name

My parents romantically walking through the streets of Odessa. *sarcasm*

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And on this day Larissa Eremenko officially became a Chmerkovskiy, Pops looks mischievously excited. He was nineteen and she was twenty at the time.

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Here I am in our apartment just keeping it casual, butt-naked on the kitchen table that doubled as my changing table when I was a baby.

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Ah, my young parents taking me for a stroll around town. Smiling was illegal in the Soviet Union.

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But not for us. Here I am with Maks, teeth and no teeth, loving life. You could tell he loved having a little bro.

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I mustve just learned how to walk and you can see Maks keeping me balanced, making sure I wasnt going to fall. Its so dear. This picture truly captures our relationship for the next twenty years.

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Taking in the sun at the famed Odessa beach on the Black Sea. Folks still not allowed to smile, somethings got me over-analyzing life already, and Maks is totally owning that speedo.

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Taking a bath. In a metal tub. In the kitchen. Life was so simple back then.

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Here I am pictured with my archnemesis, hot oatmeal, thats clearly getting the best of me.

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Maks taking this whole she loves me, she loves me not thing way too seriously.

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I think Pops was trying to dance with me. I look petrified and confused all at the same time.

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Okay okay, now Im getting the hang of it. That bathrobe though!

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Here we are on a family trip to our local circus. I hated being placed on my Moms lap, Maks is just awkward, and Pops is being Pops.

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I love this picture of my beautiful mother. You can see the nurture in her eyes, yet incredible strength at the same time.

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End of first grade class picture in front of the world-famous Odessa Opera house.

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My very first dance recital at the age of six with my very first partner, Tanyachka, and were doing the polka. For real, the polka.

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In Maks hand-me-down onesie looking like a gentleman.

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At my uncles wedding, entertaining the keys.

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At my very first competition in America with my new partner Anna. The balloons say it all, still rocking that onesie.

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Riding along our Brooklyn neighborhood in those infamous rollerblades. My brother was nowhere in sight.

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In our kitchen, at our South Brooklyn apartment with my Easter eggs and Pops translations on the wall. He was learning English; we all were.

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Celebrating my ninth birthday in our living room, with me entertaining of course.

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