Seniors 2010

Seniors 2010... that is what I heard and saw all weekend long. When my daughter excitedly talked to her friends on the phone about the impending first day of school and the fact that they are now Seniors. More than one of her friends who are on my Facebook friends list commented on the fact in their Facebook status updates. From my faux daughter Allision - "I'm not excited about school tomorrow, but I'm a Senior!!" From someone else that will remain anonymous - "Seniors 2010 - F*@K Yeah!" And my favorite from my would be adopted son Evan - ... "I've already got Senioritis!" Allyssa's update was an inside joke from our Annual Mother / Daughter weekend.... That thankfully did not include the F word.

It's hard to believe that my daughter is a Senior in high school. I remember my Mom telling me that time flies. She wasn't lying. On an almost daily basis it feels like yesterday that we were going to pre-school. For twelve years I've driven Allyssa to school on the first day. Even last year when she had friends that were driving I still drove her and faux daughter Allison to school. I always expect a hug and a kiss and last year, the front of the school was packed with kids and she didn't want to hug and kiss me goodbye. I told her that if she didn't, I would start honking the horn until she did. She laughed (although I wasn't kidding) and promptly gave me a hug and a kiss.

Yesterday on our way home from Mother / Daughter weekend we talked about the upcoming school week and talked about clothes, friends and lunch. Allyssa stopped and said, "Oh! This is the first year I get to drive to school!" I said, "Oh yeah! Did you get your parking permit?" "No, we pick them up in the morning! But this is the first year you won't have to drive me to school!" The very second she finished her sentence I could feel the lump in my throat and my face begin to get red. I knew I was going to cry right then... And I did.

This morning I woke Allyssa up as I was leaving for work. I went in and sat on the side of her bed for a minute. I looked at the child who on her first day of Kindegarten was just over 35 pounds. The child who for five basketball seasons was dwarfed by other girls her age. The child whose first pair of soccer cleats had to be ordered because I couldn't find them to fit her tiny feet. I looked at my child now, standing as tall (or as short) as I am, the child who wears the same size shoe I do and the child who is now old enough to work, drive and date. I touched the side of her face and told her it was time to wake up. She opened one eye and gave me a half smile and closed her eyes again. I kissed her cheek, reminded her of the time and told her to have a great day. I stood up and looked at my child, the child who lives for music, text messaging and chinese food. My child who no longer needs a ride on the first day of school and who will never again be bullied into hugging and kissing her Mom goodbye in the school parking lot. I turned to walk away and she said in a half asleep voice, "Momma... I love you." I looked back and saw my teenager. A kid who doesn't have a mean bone in her body, a kid with a great sense of humor, who loves her friends and even still loves her family. A kid who even though she can't remember to feed the dogs or hang up her towel is still by all accounts (not just that of her Mother) one of the greatest teenagers around!