My sweet Squink turns seventeen next week. I really can't believe it. I'm not sure why seventeen seems so much older than sixteen—maybe it is that it is one short year away from legal adulthood. Whatever the reason, it feels really different. She is my BABY and she is almost a GROWN UP.
She is amazing, really. Talented, smart, beautiful. She looks like me in some ways, but better--brighter, more charismatic. And she is so much stronger in her sureness of who she is than I was at that age, especially about boys. Probably having an active dad and a brother help her understand what I didn't know until my mid-20s--Men are people. It's sort of amazing to realize your role in the creation of a human being. I'm proud of this one. Love you, Squink. Have a wonderful birthday!
First snowfall, Portland, 1997
The next spring with the nicest dog EVER--Henry
YES, she is grunge sheik in her bad boots, leggings, skirt and Old Navy sweater... That was the first pair of shoes she would EVER wear (at 2+) and she would only wear them because I had matching boots.