Time's up

Here’s the thing about parenting: you eventually get timed out of the job. And my time is running really, really short. 

My baby turns 18 today.

When I was in the middle of changing diapers and midnight feedings and potty training and carpooling to piano lessons/youth group/soccer practice/dance rehearsals I couldn’t conceive of a time I wouldn’t do those things. Because when you’re in the trenches, you keep your head down and do the next thing that has to be done. You don’t look up much. And when you do, that 18^th birthday looks far, far away.

But the milestones have a way of sneaking up on you.

I knew this one was coming, but things have been pretty busy around these parts. Sean and I have been in the trenches of starting a theater company and running a show. Which I so wanted to do so that Rebecca could be in one more musical with her Dad at the baton. But the curtain closed a few weeks ago and my head popped out of the trench and here we are: Big 1-8.

When we asked her how she felt about turning 18, she said, “Now I can buy lottery tickets and cigarettes.” Ah, she’s a laugh a minute, that baby of mine.

Once a mom, always a mom. I’ll always be her mom. But my role is changing, and we’ll have to navigate yet another new normal.

I was with a mom of young children last night and she said, “As soon as we think we have things figured out, they go and change something on us!”

If that is not the story of parenthood, I don’t know what is. 

Happy birthday to my dear Rebecca! We love you so much!