It's Hard to Believe...

...That my little girl is 18 years old!

Yesterday was Sarah's birthday, and off and on throughout the day I had little flashbacks of the little girl she was. I remembered sitting across from her as she sat on her little potty chair in the bathroom--She held a book and studied it carefully as I read the story to her (upside down from my vantage point), telling her when to turn the pages.

Those were special times.

She called me last week and asked me if I was going to have her birthday at my house.
"I dunno, I hadn't thought about it really, why to you ask?"
"If you have it at your house everybody comes. Nobody wants to come to our house." she admitted.
She wasn't far off base with her comment, as sad as it seemed. The difference is that I called people and invited them--Her mom didn't. I saw it happen time and time again while I lived there. I wanted a party and the day before would arrive and she would admit that she "never got around to calling" anybody. I felt Sarah's predicament.

I called everybody last Friday and invited them over last night at 6:00-ish. It was a great turnout and everyone had a good time. Sarah brought her boyfriend to introduce to those of the family that had not met him yet. How many gatherings do you ever know of where someone has their girlfriend and their ex-wife both present? Mine did, and all went totally fine.

Sarah is still not failing to amaze me with her schooling and grades. I saw her transcript, and there is just a sporadic B here and there--The rest A's. It's weird (she's my kid!?). She's taking some pretty heavy classes too, so she's not just skating through her senior year with "underwater basketweaving 101" or similar fare. She has been applying to colleges lately, and to date has her apps in at 3 of them. Based on her grades, I'm sure she'll get in.

I'm proud of her!