Lillian was born on December 4, 2008, at exactly 6:47 PM.

My first baby.

The tiny human who promoted me from regular person to someone’s mom.

And somehow—despite what I firmly believe should be illegal—she is turning 18 this December.

Eighteen.

An actual adult.

A grown-up.

A person who is actively making plans for her future while I am still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up!

The day she was born should have been my first clue that life with this child was going to be interesting.

It was unusually warm the day i went to the hospital like 60 degrees in Nebraska in December warm. The kind of weather that makes you wonder if Mother Nature accidentally clicked the wrong setting.

I experienced some SCARY issues and headed to the hospital thinking it was just another weird Nebraska weather day.

24 hours later after some super scary issues and labor not progressing the doctors finished my C-section and Lillian officially entered the world…

We were in the middle of a blizzard!

A full-on Nebraska snowstorm.

Honestly?

That pretty much sums up her entire personality.

One minute sunshine.

One minute snowstorm.

The next minute you’re wondering if you should grab sunglasses or seek shelter.

She has been keeping us on our toes since Day One.

And now she’s entering her senior year.

Her SENIOR year. WHAT?!

I don’t know who approved this timeline, but I’d like to file a formal complaint.

Lately she’s been talking nonstop about her future plans.

College ideas.

Career ideas.

Places she wants to go.

Things she wants to do.

Goals she wants to accomplish.

And I sit there listening, giving advice when she asks for it, trying to be supportive and encouraging like a good parent.

Meanwhile my internal dialogue sounds something like:

*”Excuse me, what do you mean you’re leaving someday? You arent old enough to do that bud!”*

Because every conversation about her future reminds me that she won’t live here forever.

I know that’s the point.

I know our job as parents is to raise independent humans who can go out into the world and build amazing lives.

I know that.

But knowing it and being emotionally prepared for it are apparently two very different things.

The older I get, the more I realize MY parents weren’t just making stuff up when I was younger.

You know all those annoying things parents and grandparents and great grandparents say?

“They don’t stay little forever.”

“Enjoy it while you can.”

“They’ll be grown before you know it.”

You know… those little “parentisms” that make you roll your eyes so hard you can practically see your own brain.

Turns out those jerks were right! (those bitches)

Every single one of them.

And I absolutely hate that for me!

Because I swear summers lasted forever when I was a kid.

Summer break felt like an entire lifetime.

Now?

Summer lasts approximately seventeen minutes.

School gets out.

You blink twice.

Buy groceries.

Do a buttload of laundry.

Pay a thousand bills.

And suddenly Walmart has school supplies stacked to the ceiling.

How?

Who approved this?

Why is time moving at NASCAR speeds now?

I feel like just yesterday I was carrying around diaper bags and sippy cups and Goldfish crackers.

Now I’m discussing graduation plans and future careers.

I wasn’t emotionally prepared for this stage of parenting.

Nobody warns you that one day you’ll look at your kid and realize you’ve spent more years raising them than you have left before they leave home.

Nobody tells you that you’ll miss things while they’re still happening. (this fucking SUCKS folks! being sad in the middle of a happy moment!!)

The random conversations.

The late-night snack raids.

The constant chaos.

The laughter from another room.

The eye rolls.

The dramatic teenage sighs.

Even the things that currently drive you absolutely insane.

Because one day those things won’t be happening every day anymore.

So this year I’m making it a point to soak it all in.

Every family dinner.

Every random conversation.

Every road trip.

Every laugh.

Every eye roll.

Every memory.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned from raising these three kids, it’s that time doesn’t slow down for anyone.

Not for exhausted parents.

Not for emotional moms.

Not even for moms who are clearly not ready to have an 18-year-old.

So if you happen to see my parents, I would appreciate it if you DID NOT tell them I admitted they were right!

Ever!

Not once!

Not under any circumstances!

Because if they find out I finally agree with all their parenting wisdom, I will never hear the end of it.

And if I find out YOU told them?!

I will donate you to Goodwill!

Right alongside Jaxin! Who has asked approximately 4,732 questions today and is hanging on by a thread.

For now, though, I’m going to spend this last year before graduation doing my best to enjoy every moment.

Even the messy ones.

Especially the messy ones.

Because apparently the old people knew exactly what they were talking about.

And I hate that they’re right!

Love you, Lily bug.

Even if you did arrive in a blizzard and spend the last eighteen years keeping me humble.