Ok. I’m about to be very real with you all.

My first baby, the one who broke me (haha), who challenges me every day of her life (in a good way), who amazes me on a continual basis…

She’s 19 today!

I’d like to repeat that. She is 19 years old today!

This mom gig is hard.

Especially when it comes to birthday’s.

There’s a lot of things people don’t warn you about when you have a baby. The endless nights, the exhaustion, the mistakes you’ll make or how much you fall in love with your baby. They don’t warn you enough about the toddler years or even make a peep about the teenage years (seriously, why are there no more blog posts about teenage years…it’s amazing we all survive). But the birthdays…OMG…no one warns you about the birthdays!

In the beginning it’s amazing, watching your darlings grow. Then it gets exhausting trying to plan all these birthday parties and being the ‘best mom ever’ when you plan these epic parties. But what about when they hit those high teen years and you realize just how old they really are getting?


Sure, your beautiful children are growing up, driving you crazy and ready to leave the nest (hopefully). But what about you?

There is that moment when it all hits you. That moment when you have to turn around, pry your arms from around their neck, hide the tears, crawl into the bathtub with a bottle of wine and commiserate with your girlfriends.

It’s real. This sh$t is real.

How is it possible I have a 19 year old gorgeous and amazing daughter? HOW!!!

(yes yes, I understand the how and the why…but you get what I’m saying, right?)

Seriously, I am NOT old enough to have a daughter of this age. I’m not ready to be old enough to have a daughter this age. I thought dealing with having three teenagers was hard enough. Or when she turned 18, OMG I bawled like a baby looking through her baby photos… but nineteen just seems…hard.

She’s like…for real now…an adult. For real. She’s crossed over that line of 18 and 19. That invisible line no one likes to admit unless you’re the one crossing over it.

She gets to sit at at the adult table now for good. She can hang in the living room now while everyone has a glass of wine and chats after the family dinner. She can’t be shooed away to play with her cousins anymore…sigh. You know all those distinctions during the holidays between the kids and adults? They don’t apply to her anymore.

I want my baby back.

I want that five month old little girl who started to crawl, the nine month old who walked all over the house and almost pulled down the Christmas tree. I want my little girl who liked to bake with me rather than the one who tells me her baking is better than mine (seriously, she’s right though…you’ve seen her cakes on Instagram and FB right? she’s amazing!)

I’m going to be holding back my tears today as we raise a glass and toast her birthday during dinner.
I’m going to be holding back my tears today as I stare at her beautiful face and realize how amazing a woman she is.
I’m going to be holding back my tears today as we sing happy birthday to her and watch her blow out the candles.

But trust me, I will NOT be holding back my tears when I crawl into that bathtub with a bottle of wine as she sits downstairs with her friends drinking and playing Cards Against Humanity. I’ll be bawling on the phone with my girlfriends while my husband looks on in horror.

This mom gig is hard. HARD. And I’ve got 2 more girls to go through this with. Every year older for them means more grey hairs I have to cover up, more eye cream I need to invest in and more …. gah, i can’t even think about what else it means!

Happy birthday to my amazing beautiful, talented, gorgeous, funny, keep-me-on-my-toes daughter.
I love you to the moon and back and even more than that!