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Happy Eighteenth! I stare at her in awe.
She was three yesterday. 
She still has that look in her eyes when she laughs.
She no longer throws her head back as hard,
But my three year old is still in there somewhere.

She will be going to college in a few weeks.
What? How does a five year old go to college?
I see her pleased look at her art work on the wall.
She had written all of her new letters with 
black magic marker next to her bed.
She was insanely happy about it.
Now she knows to write on paper.
I miss her five year old self.

How can I possibly let my baby leave my house?
Go out on her own? Live with strangers? She sees my look.
Although it is a large party, she knows.
So she comes over and gives me a hug. I love you, she says.
I hold her as tightly as I dare.
Eighteen! How did a nine year old turn eighteen?
She is beautiful, wonderful, exciting, funny, happy, joyful.
I have to let her go but it is not easy.

Eighteen for her means starting a whole new life
Pushing me away a bit, so she can be stronger and wiser.
Eighteen means trusting that the world will be kind to my baby.
She is romping around the room, greeting people, smiling, laughing, hugging.
She is ready.
I am the one who is having a hard time.
But if I kept her eighteen more years could I let her go?
Probably not.
Happy birthday my talented, wonderful, brilliant, daughter!

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