Today is Alex’s 17th birthday. “Only 17 more months until I move out of the house for college!” she delights in telling me. Repeatedly.

I don’t get it — didn’t we just bring her home from the hospital?

Yes. Yes, we did.

Early this week on Twitter, I commented that Alex was turning 17 this week, and how grown that number feels. Like, way older than sixteen. Little did I know, the managing director of the adoption agency responsible for bringing Alex to our family follows me on Twitter. And even she was in disbelief.

“YOU ARE NOT TELLING THE TRUTH!!!” she wrote. “NO WAY NO HOW!”

Girrrrrrl, I thought, as I looked for a more recent self-portrait of Alex’s to share with her. I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around it, too.

I will say, though, seventeen is delightful. It’s razor-sharp wit. It’s university dreams. It’s deepening friendships.

It’s so fun to watch.

Happy birthday, diva. Here’s to this being your most joyful year yet.