18 years...

As her 18th birthday nears, and I sift through old photos for her graduation slide show, I find myself walking around with a perpetual lump in my throat.  How did 18 years go by so fast?

 

I can remember when we brought her home.  I can remember looking at her and wondering how we would ever make it.  She was so little and so frail that I just knew we'd do something wrong.  Then I told myself, each day she would get a little stronger, and less fragile.  And each day she did. 

 

This is one of my favorite pictures of her as a newborn.  I thought they looked so much alike!

I can't believe my baby girl is going to be 18.  What a fun ride it has been.  Mariah has always had a big personality.  As a baby, she seemed old beyond her years.  She was SO patient with us as we learned how to care for her, almost speaking to us with her eyes.  As a toddler she was fiercely determined.  I've yet to see determination in a child that rivals hers.  I can remember a few times, getting groceries and telling her no to something, only to have to exit the store with a screaming, flailing kid hoisted over my shoulder, and the groceries left behind.  I can remember thinking, man if I can't control a 3 year old, what are the teenage years going to be like?

It turns out that fierce determination has actually served her well.  It has been the fuel that has propelled her to success in distance running in high school, and excellence in academics.  Turns out the teen years weren't so bad.  In fact, they were a piece of cake compared to her toddler years. 

One of the things I've enjoyed the most is seeing the world through her eyes.  She sees the world so differently than I do, I adore her perspective.  Due to injury, she is unable to run track her senior year.  Just yesterday she was fitted for a orthopaedic boot.  As we are heading out to the car, and as she's staring down at this big, heavy, clumsy boot she's confined to, indefinitely, I ready myself for an onslaught of complaints.  She's a teenage girl, and a boot is restrictive, uncomfortable and the likelihood of still being in it at her senior prom is pretty good.  I was gearing up to remind her that surgery is never a good first option, that we HAVE to try to avoid it.  Instead of complaints, she says, "I feel like a Transformer!"  Then she proceeded to act like one all the way to the car.  I laughed until I cried.  Only Mariah would view it that way.  And I love her for it.

Mariah, I have loved every minute of being your mom.  I wish I could hit replay and do it all again, just for fun.  I know you will do great in whatever you set out to do.  Just remember to laugh often, live well and love without restraint.  And when life starts to get you down, crank up the music and dance.  I love you baby girl.

~mj~