Seventeen years ago today, I gave birth to my second daughter. Twenty-one inches long, 10lbs 6oz, physically perfect, 10 on the Apgar scale.
She’s beautiful and smart, worries too much, is so not a ‘typical’ teenager, doing well in community college, and really has given me very, very few moments of stress.
Being her mother has been an honor and a privilege, and I can hardly wait to see what she blossoms into as she matures into adulthood.
Wow, good job. I need you to help me pick nicknames for my kids. I got one of those too with the bonus ingredients: NoCommonSense and AimsToFindTrouble.
Is his Indian name “Dances with Disaster”? Because I know a few of those.
To Ethereal Freak of Pinkness, happy birthday, kiddo! Enjoy the hell out of 17, 18, 19, 20 and 21, because there are no refunds on those years…all you get to keep are memories and snapshots*. Make as many joyful examples of both as you can.
*Oh, and bad relationships with guys who will probably never be completely out of your life because you’re smart enough and responsible enough that they want you to be smart and responsible for them…if you’re really smart you’ll skip most of those…