Katelyn's birthday is a week from Saturday.
I mailed her package yesterday.
I'm grateful that she is in a place where I don't have to plan weeks
ahead just to make sure I get the package
in the mail soon enough.
I had a couple of thoughts as I was mailing her birthday package.
First, she should be one well-dressed missionary.
I realized that I have purchased her more clothes in the last 6 months
than I have in...well ever, I think.
That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much.
Is it bad that I wanted to give her birthday outfit a "trial run"
before I mailed it down to her?
Of course I didn't.
But I was tempted.
I can't wait for her to come home so we can share all of those
The next thought I had was "Holy cow, I can't believe she is going to be 21!"
Seriously rocking my world just a bit.
I don't recall having these bits of panic when she turned 20.
Why is 21 a whole different story?
Could it be another stark reminder that I, too, am getting older?
Do I just live in denial on my birthday
and only realize the passing of time
when my children have birthdays?
Whatever it is...
21 seems to be a slap to the face.