I signed a waiver for a field trip on September 8th. The field trip wasn’t until September 12. Do you know what happened on September 9th? My child, my baby, turned 18. One day he was a minor and the next day he was considered an adult. As I filled out this waiver, I realized this and it was a strange feeling. Today the world considers him to be an adult. How can one be an adult when the word teen is still attached to the end of their age? This is beyond my comprehension and a reality that I am not quite ready to accept.

On September 9th, I went to the grocery store to buy the Oreo ice cream cake that has become a tradition with our kids and I thought I better grab the number candles because I don’t think I have an 8 candle. As I walked away from that aisle, I arranged that one and that eight next to each other in my hand and tears stung my eye balls(again, yes I know, this is becoming a thing) as I saw that number… 18… And I thought, this could be the last birthday we spend together for awhile, as God willing, next September, my adult child will be away at college.

Just one short week later, I sat in the pediatricians office where I wasn’t needed because she will no longer come out to talk to me or ask if I have any questions because the world considers my 18 year old to be an adult.

18 is different. But right now 18 is also the same. I still made that peanut butter and jelly sandwich and cut it in half. I did it because I know time is short. With each day that passes, my 18 year old is getting a little older and a little closer to adulthood. A little closer to leaving home. 18 seems like the end, but if I flip that half empty glass, I can see that it is also the beginning. The beginning of a new chapter, a new journey, a new adventure. And while the thought of these possibilities makes my eyeballs fill with tears, I’m ever so grateful to have a front seat for this wild ride.