Thanks, Maggie Mason

Mightygirl.com is quite the inspiration. Since I've only been around for a little over two decades, I may as well lay out both.

My first decade:

Age 1: Still have not begun to walk. Mom panics and brings me to the doctor who says, "Hey, stop carrying her around like a princess, and she'll do it herself." Translation: I'm lazy.

Age 2: I invent my own language. Memorized The Little Lost Puppy as well, and can "read" it perfectly. Yes, a prodigy, I know.

Age 3: My party dress stage. With a British best friend, who even at three attends tea time, I cannot be made to wear pants or touch dirt.

Age 4: JR is my first crush, and I name the white bear with the blue corduroy overalls after him.

Age 5: Big kid school starts. I learn to actually read and am punished when my ever-expanding vocabulary includes "sexy" (in reference to the Peaches 'n' Cream Barbie my sister has on the shelf). This is also the year when I learn in one fell swoop that the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus are an elaborate ruse. All while standing in the seasonal aisle at the grocery store.

Age 6: First grade and the beginning of the pageboy haircuts. The first one is from Mr. Vincent, my grandfather's barber. Definitely a sign of things to come.

Age 7: Loss of the two front teeth and a bit of dignity. I now have a lisp and a name that starts with the letter "S."

Age 8: My mother is diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and I assume the role of Polyanna. The haircut goes from bad to worse, and both buck teeth and large pink glasses are added to the scenario.

Age 9: I begin reading the "Little House" book series and become convinced that I am related to Laura Ingalls.

Age 10: Sister gets married. I am forced to wear ugly lace and a flower in my ever-poofing hair. My best friends, identical twins, pass the 5'6'' mark, and thus begins the awkward girls-maturing-faster-than-boys phase of my life.