My Drew

She's named after my Great-Nana, Jane Drew.   We call her DrewP (droopy?) because of her name and last initial.  All her friends and her teacher call her DrewDrew.  She's 8 years old, she's all about asking for forgiveness rather than permission, she's got dance moves to rival her dad's, she's a lover of reading and a hater of math, and she was the first one to call me mom.

Drew is my traveling companion.  She has come to Boston with me for the last 3 years and will be joining me again this year.  She's very even tempered and is unlike her siblings in that her mood is not dependent upon sleep or food so she makes an awesome traveler.  She can be stubborn but she knows right from wrong, most often makes good choices, and is quite mature for her age.  Kind of an old soul.  Like I was.  Or still am.  I was told that forever and I've been told that about Drew, too.

As she gets a little older I see much more of myself in her.  She's strong-willed.  She's loving.  She adores animals and babies.  She vies for position of The Boss in some situations and is just learning that that is not always important. I hope it doesn't take her 37 years to come to that full conclusion. 

I think she's beautiful.  She's got a tiny mole on the tip of her nose that appeared when she was about a year old.  She also has one in between her toes.  Just like I have.  Her skin browns nicely in the summer and her hair becomes nearly translucent.  She's tall and carries herself well.  

I am proud of her and I am proud to see that she is being compared to me as she matures.  It's good for my ego 'cause I think she's pretty awesome. 

Me, 1983.  Drew, 2013. 

30 years apart