Nineteen

Today is The Teenager's nineteenth birthday. Nineteen, wow. Whatever will I do next year, when she turns twenty? I won't be able to call her The Teenager anymore (I know, first world problems). I'm going to have to come up with a new nickname for the child who was once Baby Girl, then, The Girl, and, finally, The Teenager. How lucky am I to have had the privilege of writing about her for so long?

How privileged am I for having her in my life, period? She is such a good kid, and, as much as we would like to take the credit for it, the truth is, I'm sure she has thrived despite the parenting mishaps that we have made along the way.

She is fun and funny. Sweet and compassionate. Caring and nurturing. She can also be cranky and quite the pistol when she wants to be. She can argue a point until her tongue is tired and still never give an inch. I pity the fool who crosses her, particularly one that brings pain or sorrow to one of her friends, for she is loyal and devoted to them.

I have no worries about her future, I know that she will be successful at whatever path she chooses. It's interesting and fascinating to watch her become a young adult and I am so looking forward to watching her forge her way in this world as she continues to mature. Being her mother is, as I have said, such a privilege and such a blessing.

Happy birthday, baby girl! I love you infinity and beyond.