18

It's been 18 years since Craig and I brought this baby home from the hospital in September 1996.

But I can remember every detail of it better than some of the details from earlier this week.  I remember the smell of the new carpet Craig had installed into the little house we had just bought.  I remember that she would NOT keep her feet tucked into anything.  I remember sleeping with my hand in her bassinet so I could make sure she was still breathing.  I remember her crying and crying and never wanting to sleep in her crib, and the only thing that settled her was having Craig walk her around the house singing John Denver songs into her little ears.  I remember how careful we were changing those first few diapers.  I remember being sleep deprived and nervous and so worried that I would never be good at this parenting thing.  

I remember first words, first steps, first days of school, moves across the country, best friends and new best friends, tantrums, Barbies, pony rides, birthday parties, pink everything, dress ups, time outs, ballet lessons, piano lessons, soccer, choir, musicals, May Day, her first hair appointment, her Easy Bake oven, Joy School, chickens, cats, and fish, Daddy/Daughter dates, shopping trips, dentist appts, her first time babysitting, her first time driving the car alone, her first talk in church, her first sleep away camp, her first dance, and her first date... 

And now all of a sudden, it's September 2014 and she's 18 years old.  

I wasn't expecting this to be such an emotional day, but all I can think about is that the firsts that are coming up for her are ones that we won't be as much a part of and won't remember as well as she does.  (...sniff...)