A year ago, a friend of mine whose child had just graduated from high school suggested I write an article about this big milestone. I thought about it and decided to wait. It would have been like writing a guidebook about Paris based on internet research, without actually going there and seeing the light, smelling the bread. A year later, my son has just graduated from high school. Let's just say I've seen the light. I assume that's why there are tears in my eyes all the time.
A pair of shoes can showcase your individual style, and when you go shoe shopping you usually gravitate towards something that matches your style. But it's also awesome to take risks and try new things. A college near home can offer a community you already know, and being close to family is appealing. But going somewhere completely new and faraway is just as exciting.
You've heard the assailant was a swimmer. That has nothing to do with the rape he committed. Brock Turner is a rapist who can swim well. He and his defenders are trying to qualify his crime, trying to limit the meaning of his certain rape by letting us know that he's an athlete. Don't pay it any attention. Rape is rape.
Daughter, you are amazing. One day you're sweet and needy, where I feel like you'd cuddle up in my lap if you were smaller. The next day, you spew venom and the look in your eyes tells me someone has taken over your body and she is not of this world. You are my 14-year-old daughter and I am simply your parent along for a ride that makes Google maps question the route at times.
Statistically, I am supposed to be dead, in jail, or homeless. At 14, I'd been kicked out of so many foster homes that it became a game to me. I acted out because I didn't trust anyone, and I didn't expect that to change any time soon. So, how come I didn't end up as yet another statistic? ONE. CARING. ADULT.
Our oldest child was eleven when he went away to his first weeklong summer camp. He came home sunburned, sleep-deprived, and filthy. When I picked him up from our church parking lot, everything in me wanted to get him home so he could shower and I could start the (massive) post-camp laundry. But instead, I took him out for a hamburger.