Thank heaven for little girls

When Bryan and I moved in together, we didn't plan on having kids. We had Andy. What more could you want? But then I got pregnant and we were happy. Nine months later, Bryan walked into the delivery room with his shag haircut reeking of Aqua Net, a doctor’s coat and Groucho Marx nose and glasses and a few minutes later Summer was born.

She was a strange little kid. Had this white-blonde hair and talked with a raspy voice. Pronounced S’s as D’s so she called herself "Dummer." She believed she could fly and tried several times to jump off of things (It was scary). She loved the water and thought she was a mermaid. She had a unique sense of style from the beginning. She cut and dyed (using Magic Markers) all of her dolls’ hair, and then cut her own at age 4.

She wrote poems and books from an early age and was highly creative in every sense. She only felt comfortable with her immediate family and friends and would freeze like a mannican if anyone she didn’t know walked in a room—we had to pick her up like a statue and move her to another room. She became a vegetarian at age 8 and surrounded herself with animals she treated as children, dressing them up in doll clothes and feeding them in her high chair with a spoon. To this day, our 14-year-old Siamese cat, Bo, sticks his paw in his food and scoops it up to eat. When Summer walks in the room, Bo attaches himself to her like glue. I guess he thinks she’s his mother.

Jump ahead to today. Not much has changed. Summer still has a unique sense of style. She’s gone from vegetarian to devout vegan. She cuts and dyes her hair regularly. She still loves the water, writes poems and zines, and is creative as hell. She is still only comfortable with her immediate family and friends. She doesn’t freeze like a mannican when someone she doesn’t know walks in a room, she just leaves. She still dresses up the cats and I’m pretty sure she still thinks she can fly.

I often wonder how I ended up with the most amazing girl as my child. I choose to hang out with her and would want her to be my friend if we weren’t related. I feel like one of the luckiest people to know someone as compassionate, creative and loving as this unique human being. Being her mother is just cake. Happy Birthday, gorgeous.