21

I am cannot believe how grown up you are!  Just yesterday it seemed that you were a little blond haired girl - one of the centers of my boyfriend's life. 
He would talk about you, and his face would soften and I could tell he adored you.  The first time we met you were barely older than Addie - You've heard this story a thousand times, but I will tell it again. 

Andy and I drove in late from Chicago - when arrived in Cincinnati everyone was already in bed, but taped to the banister was an envelope with my name on it.  It was adorned with stickers and my name was written in little girl printing, inside I found six pennies and an orange yarn anklet.  How did you know that orange was my favorite color?  I remember watching you play soccer - and running the wrong way down the field after picking a few dandelions.

You came to Chicago all on your own when you were still just a little kid - I cannot believe your mother let you on that plane!  Andy took you to the aquarium where you suckered him into buying you some ridiculously expensive stuffed sea creature.  You also went to the Field Museum to see Sue the T Rex, with the article you cut out of the newspaper at home in your pocket.  We took you to see High Fidelity on the lawn at Loyola - in retrospect I think you were a tad young for that outing!

Right after that trip Chicago I started joining your family at the beach - where I watched you fearlessly face the waves in the ocean, shaming me into joining.  Even as a kid you knew how to vacation - your butt in the sand and a book in your hand.

When you were just 13 years old I officially joined your family - but you had already said that you'd "known me pretty much your whole life".  You were beautiful and brave on my wedding day - you got to wear a strapless dress and walk gracefully down the aisle.  You also bravely held my mirror for me as I melted into a bit of bridezilla.  Not only were you there when I married your brother, but you were there the days your nieces were born.  There are very few people who I could have little shame about losing control of my bladder with, but you are one of them! You are a natural with both girls - Brenna is still figuring you out, but Addie openly adores you.  Not so long ago she told me she wished she looked like you and she frequently asks me to do her hair like Aunt Nikki's, "a lot in a pony tail, but a little down".

When I moved here you were often my salvation - providing sweet treats, breaks from mothering and lunch dates.  We spent many afternoons together, when I would pick you up from school, slurping on milk shakes and scarfing down fried pickles.  I was honored to be able to join you for your fancy senior tea and a bit in shock that the little girl who gave me pennies was graduating high school. 
And now?  Now you are twentyfreakingone.

I told Addie that today was your birthday and that you are officially a grown up and her response was "No way!  Aunt Nikki is all growed up??". 

You sure are...we will miss you this summer, perhaps even more than during the school year, as summer is our time to play, but are excited to watch you tackle the next set of adventures.  Happy 21st Birthday, Nicole Elizabeth!  I think I will accessorize today with that beautiful anklet from so many years ago...

The Difference

Even though today started a 4:42 a.m., it was a markedly better day than yesterday.

There were minimal tears.

There was a minute amount of backtalk.

I didn't get yelled at or bossed.

My hand was held with little coaxing.

My lap was sat in and I was given more than a few kisses.

We managed to it make through story time and a store with no drama. Three-fourths of her lunch was eaten without any complaints.

I am not sure as to why today is so different than yesterday. We kept busy both days. She saw Aunt Nikki both days. She picked out her own outfit both days.

Maybe it's because today we made Funfetti cookies. Funfettis make any day a little brighter.

Pour Salt in the Wound

I was snapping out of it.

Truly, I was. I was turning from 30-boo-hoo to the highly endorsed 30-woo-hoo. I was making a list of the things I would do this year. I was researching diets. I was recommitting to fitness.

And then I brought my sister-in-law to college. That act, in itself, was traumatic. She was my free babysitter. My "sweet treat" delivery girl. She introduced me to the Twilight series and complimented my cooking (most of the time). She entertained me with high school drama and was, in general, a wonderful playmate not just for Addie, but for me.

So, it was with steely resolve that I watched as the cars were packed with her beloved possessions.

It was stoic determination that I made small talk and laughed three hours up I-75.

I knew that I would miss having Nikki around. I knew that our family dynamic would change.

I knew that my husband would feel old with his youngest sibling shipped off to school and that Sunday dinners would be quieter without her.

We unloaded the cars and unpacked boxes and bins. Her bed got made up in lime green and blue. Her shirts and sweaters found a place in the closet. The new futon was assembled and the fancy TV plugged in. Her desk got organized and reorganized. A trip around campus, a few new sweatshirts for the fam, a lunch at BW3s, a quick trip to Meijer for some essentials and it was time to get on the road.

Leaving her behind was hard. Saying goodbye was quick, to avoid all of our tears. But the hardest part of day? That, THAT, was the following scenario:

• Walking through campus. Andy pushing Addie in the stroller, me walking beside them.
• Brian and Nikki strolling behind us. Patty and Kim walking behind them.
• I said some snotty snide comment to Nikki, pretty standard for us. (What? I can't even remember, but I'm sure it wasn't nice).
• Nikki kicked me in the bottom as hard as her huge foot would allow.
• Laughter erupted behind me, repeatedly, and a chagrined young man walked away from us, quickly, toward the dorm.
• Said young man had said (after the painful kick) to Patty and Kim "Man I would never kick my (wait for it)...MOM".

Oh my shit, I was just mistaken as the mother of an EIGHTEEN YEAR OLD.

When we got home, I had a beer and two hefty glasses of wine...but the pain was barely dulled.

Guess which one I am the mother of....

Damn co-eds.

Mmmmm, Wine. Gulp, Gulp, Gulp.