This blog is sparkly and new and I realize I have fallen down on the job by omitting a grand and exciting HAPPY NEW YEAR message… will a “Happy Twelfth Night!” do? No? Hmpf. Picky.
I have a doctor’s note and everything. A 7 day migraine extravaganza. It was very exciting, I assure you.
Meanwhile, my daughter turned fourteen.
Nothing prepares you for this moment in motherhood. Your baby girl is a budding young woman. It takes your breath away. You are proud and you cry just watching her make toast.
Well, I do.
There she stood, in the kitchen, by the toaster oven. And I was leaning against the counter, listening to her talk about things, and looking at her.
REALLY looking at her.
My God. When did it happen? When did she become a young woman? I looked at her in her fragile woman’s frame, soft and unaware, just the beginnings. But it’s the end of the child. That’s when I started to cry.
Soggy toast never hurt anyone.