The Princess turned 18 in December. She was our Christmas baby--we brought her home on Christmas Eve...in a little red stocking. We were released from the hospital exactly 24 hours after her arrival. I was ready to get home...Christmas was on us and there were 2 little boys at home waiting to celebrate. Whenever I look at pictures of that time, I wonder-- " What was I thinking?" I looked like death warmed over.
Fast forward 18 years.
Now that she's 18, she can excuse herself out of high school classes.
Now that she's 18, she can vote.
Now that she's 18, she can pierce her cartilege/nose/whatever else without parental approval. And don't get me started on what happened at our family medical clinic when she went in alone for her final immunizations.
When she goes off to college this fall, they don't have to release any of her information to me even if I am the one paying the bills.
And there's a whole other list of things that her mom does not want to think about that are perfectly legal for her to do...now that she's 18.
Independent children. Isn't that one of the goals of parenting?
She can pump her own gas and is learning to manage her finances.
She can make macaroni and cheese, a mean queso dip and bake brownies so I figure she's got the basics covered.
She can wash her own clothes and will eventually figure out that if you leave them in the washer too long, they mildew and smell bad. In college she'll learn that if you leave them in the machine too long, they get dumped out on the floor...or stolen!
She has a schedule that would boogle the mind of a White House aide and manages to get it all done...and she's so darn cute while she's doing it.
Yep, she's flexing her wings of independence and making her own choices. She doesn't really need me much anymore...
Except when she's in bed for 3 days with the bug that's going around...
And I bring her soup and jello and sprite...
Even if she is 18.