My daughter turns eleven this week, so I've been feeling all sentimental and weepy. Looking through the one or two photographs I've taken of her over the years, I've started to see patterns emerging. Call me crazy, but I think maybe it's not her fault that she's so quirky.
When given the choice of Fair Hair or face makeup,
she opts for the coiffure.
Turns out she's not the only one in the family who likes crazy hair.
And her penchant for making silly faces?
She's learned from the best.
I'm not saying her fearlessness is the direct result of an authority figure modeling high-risk behavior, but . . .
after a few times of getting swung out over the river by her uncle,
a kid can get used to the adrenaline rush.
Happy Birthday to my sweet, funny, tough Alaskan girl!
Dinner last night: chili, rice, and cheese