For the first Tuesday in 8 weeks, I'm not traveling to Ohio (2 hours, 20 minutes). The day is open before me for...work. *sigh*....

Lesson learned this weekend: When your child grows up, you are not going to be in on the small details of her life. And that's okay. It's supposed to be that way. As I struggle with control-freakiness, as I find my daughter in the company of a boy who seems to be pretty nice, as a jeep pulls up transporting him and his bud, as I make small talk with a young stranger, I'm finally getting it. This is her life. I don't get to know everything anymore. The big things, the important things, even some mundane things, yes. But the shape of her conversations with this new friend, the quiet cell phone calls, the time they spend in whichever gathering space I'm not, no. It's hers. And it should be. (And then I remember, I needed space from my mother, too...). Last night, during a movie, she curled up on the couch and put her head in my lap, watching the tv. She's still my girl. And she's growing up.