In five days, my daughter will be turning 8.
Let me tell you something about the number 8.
It feels like just yesterday that she was born. But it was 8 years ago.
Which means that tomorrow, she’ll be 16.
And I know this isn’t true except it sort of is because life is flying by, no matter how much I try to grab hold of it.
It keeps slipping from my hands, like a balloon, in the wind.

So, I’m holding on and also trying to be realistic and I am being totally real when I tell you that I am not really looking forward to the teenage years. I’m excited to see her graduate college, get a job, support herself, fall in love, get married, have kids, support her parents, etc…

But be a teenager? I am so scared.

It’s not like a was a wild teenager. I wasn’t. (usually) I rarely drank. (which is true.) I didn’t smoke. (all that much.) I was not interested at all in making out with boys (such a lie) and I never, ever, ever snuck out of the house. (that is totally true.)
(mostly)

So, I’m not sure exactly why I’m scared except that i blame Facebook. I read status updates by those girls in their teenage years, filled with angst and the f-word and I want to hide and run away.

But then sometimes, I see an update that isn’t about sex and it’s about college and it references literature and even uses punctuation (reeaaal punctuationnnnnnn!) and I think, yes, I’ll take one of those, please!

I know it doesn’t work that way. But, we have decided to have Anna start taking violin lessons simply because how many strippers have you ever heard say “I also play violin.”

I rest my case.