Honoring ALL Who Served & Uncle Bud
Keeping Our Options Open, Since 1993

Whoa, man, she's 18!

It's official, as of 4:30 this morning, I am the mother of an 18 year-old, as in, you know, a fully grown adult female.

Lump, meet throat.

Although, my husband Garth (NHRN) and I knew this day would come way, way too fast (we were right, dammit) aaaaaand, now that is here, well, DAMMIT!

Whoa, man, she's 18!
I'm still getting used to the idea of Holly as a teenager (sort of) but, you know what?  I don't mind it so much.  Not that I have a choice, or anything. 

Beeeecause, no matter how hard I try and will my baby girl back (to about hip level) there is no use denying it, my oldest HAS grown into a beautiful woh, woh, woh, D'OH!!!

Whoa, man, I swear, I got this.

[clears throat]

18 years to prepare for this VERY moment and, still, I've managed to muck it all up with silly, overly-cliché sentiments, like, MAH BAY-BEE GIRL IS ALL GROWED-UP AND EVERYTHING!

Then again, now that she IS an adult (SOB!) being an embarrassment to a grown up child just isn't as much fun, anymore.

HowEVER, seeing as I am ALSO celebrating my 18th Motherversary, I feel it safe to say that it's just too gosh-darned late to worry about propriety, at this point, really.

Happy Momiversary to Me!

Because, I seemed to have raised myself a new best friend, for life and, you know what else, I'm okay with that, too, you know?!?

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