You've come a long way, baby...

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YOU'VE COME A LONG WAY, BABY...
...sort of.

This is me, with Alison, who was never quite as cool.

Well, my 21st has just about rolled around. Aside from being amazed that I've made it this far (the bus-bicycle combination seemed determined to change that for a while) I've had a bit of a laugh at my, for want of a better term, "Wonder Years". Scroll down and watch me grow before your eyes... (okay, it's just a bunch of pictures).
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Here I crawl at 7 months.

Mmm. I am crawling. Not to be taken for granted.

This is me at 8 months.

Anything cracks me up. Always has. I think Dad was wearing one of Mum's dresses to take this one...

This is me at 11 months.

This was taken a few months before I decided I didn't really want to be bothered using my legs, and broke them both in a dramatic tumble at Centennial Park. Neighbours remember me grabbing the carpet and dragging myself along to get around...

Here I am at 17 months.

This is Ali and I at the Te Hana house, the breaking-of-the-legs incident imminent. Blondes do not have more fun. Trust me.

Two years old, a girl and her dog.

This dog and I nearly ran away together. Unfortunately, it was not destined to be and it took the introduction of Zippy three years later to ease the pain.

This is me at around about two years.

This was taken in Brisbane just before... oo-arr... my first ever bus trip. And incidentally the last photo of me in Australia where I don't have my tongue sticking out.

Three years old, complete with Mickey Mouse bag and Lada.

It was only a couple of years ago that I realised this was NOT my first-day-of-school picture but in fact my first-day-at-the-optometrist picture. I didn't end up with glasses, but arguably should have, considering the number of dings I've put in the Galant lately.

Sisters three, myself at six years.

This was taken at the chemist just prior to our trip to Australia in 1986. We were all pretty grumpy that day...

Country bumpkin at eight years.

On the day of the opening of the Wellsford Underpass I won the local hat competition... a stylish little number designed by Eileen Wintle... I can't remember what it said on it, but it was something like "this underpass is for the birds". Or maybe not.

Bugs Bunny turns nine...

By my ninth birthday I had gone from being "solar panel forehead" (never mind) to being "bugs", for obvious reasons. As such I refused to bare my pearly whites for this photo, until they threatened to ban me from the library.

And baby turns ten!

The Oodles were just a start. The beam is for the chocolate on chocolate on chocolate cake.

Chelsea Illustrated: The Swimsuit Edition, aged ten.

The slip n' slide was fun. Really it was. Despite being nothing like it looked like on the box, and having no way to stop myself from slip n' sliding right off the end and into the trunk of the liquid amber tree...

Happy 11th birthday baby!

Clockwise from bottom left: Emma Webster, Sarah Blenkinsopp, Vivien Borrows and myself. My eleventh birthday ended in not one but two Chelsea moments, which involved me almost sinking to a swampy death in our dam, and then throwing up everything I'd eaten so far that evening. But did I have fun...

And at thirteen you shall! go to the ball...

...despite that cut on your leg (Mum's hasty attempt to shave mine for the first time). Nevertheless I went to my Form 2 Social and danced up a storm with young (and very short) Isaac Johnston, much to the amusement of my father who picked me up later.

A fourteen-year-old easy rider.

This is my Uncle Peter's Harley, the photo was taken in Boyne Island, Queensland. This was about as far as I got without him taking over the throttle.

Still clinging to the dog at seventeen...