The tigers took first place today. Not the football team, but the ones who work harder -- the marching band.
My oldest came home early, but only because I wouldn't "drop [her] dress off at the door" of a girl friend's house where homecoming dance preparations are working themselves up into a frenzy as I write.
I cried when I dropped her off. I tried not to. There was a time when we shared everything with each other. And now...I'm pretty sure the only reason I remain like a sometimes needed excessory is that she doesn't have a license. Yet.
I always thought the transition between teenage daughter to grown up stanger would be gradual. That, somehow, we'd completely skirt around the pitfalls of generational gappage and such. I always thought our teenage home would be full of teenagers. The fridge always needing to be restocked. The late night, make up, boy crush giggle fests would rock on with the speakers way up into the night. But, none of the kids even come here. Not even my own.
And it is the first time in my life that I regret having born them.
What is the point, really, of all of this giving if, in the end, it means nothing to no one -- especially not the ones that matter most in all of the world to you? My mom and I spent years not saying two nice words to each other, but I still let her in for every important moment of my life. I wanted her to share it and mine can't get far enough away fast enough.
God bless you all. I know I haven't.
My oldest came home early, but only because I wouldn't "drop [her] dress off at the door" of a girl friend's house where homecoming dance preparations are working themselves up into a frenzy as I write.
I cried when I dropped her off. I tried not to. There was a time when we shared everything with each other. And now...I'm pretty sure the only reason I remain like a sometimes needed excessory is that she doesn't have a license. Yet.
I always thought the transition between teenage daughter to grown up stanger would be gradual. That, somehow, we'd completely skirt around the pitfalls of generational gappage and such. I always thought our teenage home would be full of teenagers. The fridge always needing to be restocked. The late night, make up, boy crush giggle fests would rock on with the speakers way up into the night. But, none of the kids even come here. Not even my own.
And it is the first time in my life that I regret having born them.
What is the point, really, of all of this giving if, in the end, it means nothing to no one -- especially not the ones that matter most in all of the world to you? My mom and I spent years not saying two nice words to each other, but I still let her in for every important moment of my life. I wanted her to share it and mine can't get far enough away fast enough.
God bless you all. I know I haven't.
