Hey Nineteen

My daughter turns 19 today.  I can’t believe it’s been a year since I wrote this post, and quite frankly, I don’t think I can match it.  It still says almost everything I want to say about my baby girl.

I even went looking for an appropriate song lyric to toss in here, immediately thinking of Steely Dan’s Hey Nineteen, but the only appropriate lyrics tend to speak more to me than to her.

She thinks I’m crazy

But I’m just growin’ old.

Ain’t that the truth.

A lot has happened in the last year.  She’s changed direction in her education and changed schools as well, moving from a Journalism degree from Carleton to a Public Relations degree from Durham College.  That was a tough decision but it’s one she made on her own, which we’re proud of.

She also came back home and searched for a job.  Again, not an easy task.  She put out about 300 applications and had some pretty abysmal interviews, but she persevered and started working at the Ministry of Finance.  It’s nice to see her interacting with adults in a work environment.  I think it will teach her a lot.  I just hope they don’t follow through with trying to set her up with every cute guy who shows up in the office.

Thankfully, she did manage to get a part-time role as a model for a photography class at Durham College.  Everyone’s told her she should be a model.  I don’t disagree.

Photography by Barb Dionne

And she also filled her time by volunteering at her old high school, helping out as a teacher’s assistant.

She’s a good kid…well, at nineteen, I guess she’s not a kid anymore, but she is to me.  Still she does have her diva moments, which, when we point them out, she gets all indignant and looks at us and says, “What?  I’m a frickin’ delight!”

It always elicits laughter.

She has a great sense of humour and she has some interesting idiosyncrasies…which can be used against her to great hilarity.  She has an unreasoning phobia of feet.  She doesn’t like them.  She especially doesn’t like anyone touching her with their feet.  If you kind of bat your hands at her, she’ll pull her arms up tight to her chest and flap her hands, sort of like a spastic squirrel.  Oh, and her head will also tilt back, eyes close and mouth drop open.  She’s quite hilarious.

When she laughs, her nostrils do this weird flaring thing.  And if she’s bored with you, her eyes will close at different times, one following the other down.  If you point it out, she’ll rub at them incessantly.

It’s quite easy to irk her too.  If she complains that her sunglasses are crooked, just point out it’s not her glasses, but one ear that’s lower than the other.  It will send her into paroxysic spasms.

She’s my kid and I love her dearly. These are all the things that make me love her even more.

Happy birthday, baby girl.  I love you.

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