Well, it has happened to me.

There was a time when I looked forward to this day. Like when my younger daughter was 12 months old and I was running on a year of sleep deprivation because she was still mostly not sleeping through the night. Or when she was three and had what we learned were hunger tantrums so frequently and at such volume that she had a sultry, jazz singer voice that my neighbors said would be so sexy when she grew up, though I really hoped she would grow out of it! Or when she was 4 and asked “why…” a hundred, no a thousand times a day and challenged absolutely everything I said or did.

But now that it has happened, I reflect back and adore every minute I spent with my kids, even the most trying ones. Like the day the same daughter cried inconsolably for well over a half hour. When I finally had her calmed down enough to talk she told me that she was crying because I had finally made it clear to her that she was not going to have a little brother or sister. Man was I puzzled, but I persisted with my best mom skills. Well it turned out she would always be the youngest in our family and so everyone else would die before her and she would be all alone in the world. She was three.

I could reminisce all day, but since it is her 18th birthday, I think I will take her out for her favorite meal instead. Me, the parent of two adults.