That was my girl.
A long time ago.
When she was little she used to ask when would she be grown-up enough to move out and be on her own and we always said when you’re 36.
How were we to know we were seeing into the future?
I imagined that my parenting would be pretty much done by now. The real hands-on kind that is. I thought there would be phone calls and visits during Thanksgiving, then life took this sharp evil, bone crunching turn and I thought I’d never have any of that ever again and now life goes and takes another sharp turn. By now I know I need to fasten up my seat belt and breathe deeply instead of clenching up for the expected whack, not that any of that makes much of a difference, I’m still always always stunned by it.
Amazed at my own stupid surprise at anything that happens as I’ve been expecting it all along.
Turns out my baby is having a baby and both babies will most likely be living here under our little roof. Turns out my hands aren’t done being on. Not at all.