My first Sweet Sixteen

I've been putting off writing this for as long as I can because I didn't want to face the emotions hiding just beneath the surface.

Plus, sometimes I think there is something wrong with me that I get so emotional about milestones in my children's lives that should be happy, momentous occasions.

I guess I should accept the fact that I am different, but for Pete's sake, how do I not get emotional? My first baby girl is turning 16 this week!

That is HUGE!

Or at least in this mama's eyes.

I'm not sure what makes it so much bigger than turning 15 or 17, other than a license to drive, but for some reason, it seems like such an enormous milestone.

This week leading up to her birthday, I have barely been able to look at her without tearing up.

I look at her long, straightened hair and remember how for so many years, it was me that had to wash it and brush it and fix it nice and pretty.

I remember the evening she was born and the nurse handed her to me after her first bath and I got to see that beautiful little head full of light brown hair.

And how it felt to wrap my whole hand around the back of her tiny head and feel her soft, newborn hair.

I remember noticing immediately, which made me smile, that she shared my crazy cowlick that would forever deny her of having perfect bangs.

Then as years passed, and her hair turned natural curly as a toddler and I remembered how pretty is was but how she badly she fought me when I tried to comb through it.

Or how during the late elementary years, when she started doing her own hair and how many times I wanted to fix it for her because secretly it looked so awful, but in her eyes, it was perfect.

I look at her face and think back to when I first saw her profile on the ultrasound and how I was certain she had my nose.

Then when she was born, she had my eyes and nose but her daddy's mouth and forehead.

I've watched that sweet face grow from a tiny newborn, to a chubby baby and then to a little girl.

That same face that suffered through awkward pre-teen stages, is now flawless and has the slightest hints of blush and eye shadow to bring out her features.

And those hazel eyes that started off blue so many years ago, I have completely memorized.

Those eyes have always told me so much, when she's scared or tired or excited.

When she's mad or sad or just plain bored. And that smile. I remember her first toothless grin, her toddler smile with a lot of perfect tiny teeth, and her goofy elementary school smile with all the gaps and then her Junior High smile full of metal and colored rubber bands.

It's the same eyes and the same smile now just all grown up but I remember every stage.

I look at her hands and her feet and long skinny arms and legs.

For so many years, I got to hold those hands.

I held those hands when talking to her as a newborn, or helping her learn to walk or making her hold my hand when we crossed the street.

I held those hands when she got shots at the doctor or prepared for ear surgery.

Gosh! Now I can't remember the last time I even touched them.

And those feet....how many socks and shoes have I helped her put on those feet, too many to count.

Her long legs and arms didn't use to be so long and fit on my lap or around my waist perfectly to hold or hug her.

It's just gone by so fast and been so unbelievably wonderful, even the bad times.

I wouldn't trade any of it. I just can't believe how much a child changes before your eyes when it seems they'll stay a certain age forever.

It's downright shocking to me.

So I guess that's why I get emotional every time a birthday rolls around. And for this one in particular, it's even tougher. A birthday we've talked about for years is finally here and the daughter I've raised is now a young woman starting a new chapter in her life.

So I apologize for being emotional, but they're both tears of joy and sadness as I wish my baby girl a Sweet Sixteen!