My baby turned 18 yesterday. I've never known a child to want to be 18 more than this one. It's as if a magic switch were going to be flipped and she would be grown.
I sent her a text during the week: "What kind of birthday cake would you like?" Her answer, "I want my Sponge Bob cake, mama." She has had a Sponge Bob cake every year for five years now. I was sure she was kidding. I said, "Are you serious?" She said, "Yes."
This child has never called me Mama. When she was little, I was Mommy, but have been Mom for at least 12 years.
My baby. My big girl. My puzzle, my challenge, my mystery. My love.