Last Monday, YoungerDaughter turned 21.
Oof. Right to the gut.
It’s definitely been harder to wrap my head around this fact than it was when EldestDaughter hit that milestone. Why? *shrug* No clue.
Well, maybe 1 or 2 clues.
EldestDaughter turned 21 just 3 days before giving birth to the Toddler Tornado. There wasn’t any drunken bar crawl fanfare done, since she was hugely preggers on her actual birthday, & couldn’t drink for a long time afterward, due to nursing an infant & recovering from labor. So, turning 21 for her was both happy & sad. She got the best birthday present ever, but couldn’t hoist a frosty one in celebration. Oh well…
YoungerDaughter, on the other hand, has always been called “The Innocent One” by her friends & family alike. She maintains a child – like wonder & awe that stuns people when they realize she has actually held on to her innocence, and prefers it that way, stubbornly. She is very mature for her age, intellectually & logically, but she still states that she’d “rather be 6”. She totally still enjoys her beloved things from her childhood, like tiaras, Pooh Bear anything & a passionate obsession with Sailor Moon.
I’ve been in awe of her for years, living in the times we do, she has solidly refused to become jaded. She, somehow, has become a mature innocent.
A contradiction, that child… no, I have to say it.
So it’s difficult, with all these contradictions, to reconcile her complete autonomy from me.
It’s definitely a shock to realize that I only have a handful of years left before I won’t have any actual children left in my brood.
They’ll all be grownups in a heartbeat.
Happy Birthday, Toodles. May your heart be ever-young.