Lately I find myself thinking and saying Lily is 17, and then I instantly get panicky until I catch myself: she's only 16. Only 16? I think I age her because she's such a mature young lady. So mature that I am starting to feel the trepidation of what is to come: college. As hard as it was to cross that bridge with Ted, I just know this is going to be even more difficult because she's my baby. And it goes without saying that when the time comes, I will feel excitement for her going out into the world. It'll be one of the bazillion happysad moments mothers know so well.
It seems like yesterday Lily was boarding the school bus for her first day of K4 wearing an apple ensemble from Gymboree. Senior year is looming. I'm hopeful that it will be a normal year of activities and sporting events and dances. Fun. The isolation forced upon these kids has had lasting effects. Yes, even for my well adjusted, positive thinking daughter.
I was so proud of her for speaking up about wanting to play first base. Coach put her there this week after telling her that she is one of the most versatile players on the team. He also let her know that she has some of the best grades on the team. She's dedicated in all endeavors. Right now my three are watching the Brewer game. Spring fever.
She got word this week that camp is on this summer and she will be employed as a counselor. That's a good thing too because she likes to shop and frequent Starbucks like most girls her age: 16 not 17.
No comments:
Post a Comment