Sweet sixteen

This weekend was spent in Great Bend celebrating my niece Aspen's 16th birthday. (Next to her is my nephew, Will, who is 4.) Notice the cash in Aspen's hand. It's the birthday gift of choice for most of her aunts and uncles. We have no idea what a 16-year-old wants these days, so we just throw up our hands and give her cash to buy what she wants.
Aspen was a preemie when she was born. A serious preemie. She was born at about 28 weeks, and weighed about 2 pounds. They transported her mom to Wesley from Great Bend, and I remember being in the waiting room with my brother, Stephen, when she was born. The doctor came out and said something like, "Did they tell you what sex she WAS?" And both of us froze at the word WAS, thinking she hadn't made it. But she had. She spent the first two months of her life in an incubator at Wesley before going home. I think her name, Aspen, is very unusual, and I really like it. And her middle name is Echo. Aspen Echo.
Aspen loves babies. Here she is holding her youngest cousin, and my youngest nephew, Joe, who is about 6 months old.