How it Feels to be the Mother of an Adult, Officially

There are too many feels.

My oldest kid turned 18 on Monday after a whirlwind weekend of too much catering to drunks, fair food, live music, and general business and crazy. The following days were filled with present-buying (a new bass for the birthday boy), workshop-filming, and visiting with my sweet adopted daughter, and today, in the shade of the porch on a balmy spring day, I have finally gotten a moment to myself to just... adjust.

Let me tell you, I am mildly overwhelmed. The sweet little boy who would cry when my band stopped playing, would fall asleep on my lap to the soothing sounds of Xena: Warrior Princess, would throw the Rock Fist in his car seat as we barreled through the desert is now officially a Man. MIND BOGGLING.

He is a wonderful kid. Kid? YES KID. He is smart, witty, hilariously awesome, kind-hearted with enough cynicism to keep him from being a doormat. A hard worker (when he wants to be... hahah). A joy in every way. Seriously. Even when he's driving me crazy. He graduates in less than a month, and I can hardly believe it. I can hardly believe I was given the gift to be able to share my world with this beautiful soul.

Adorable.

So, Jerod, on this, the day of my daughter's wedding (WINK), I wish these things for you:

May you always have enough adventure to never be bored.

May you always have the courage and tenacity to seize life with those pointy little teeth and take everything it has to offer.

May you always love more than you hate.

May you always have enough.

May you always have confidence and unwavering determination.

May you always find it within you to laugh, even when life isn't very funny.

May you always find moments of serenity, moments of fierce joy, moments of hope and wonder and love, always love.

 

Love you more than Sriracha, kid.