Watching your child grow up is so incremental. You just don’t see it happening. One day they are sweet infants, the next they are chubby cheeked toddlers and then … well then they’re in high school, and you send them off to their first Homecoming dance.
Remember Reagan’s first Homecoming? I do. Because I’m pretty sure it was just last week.
Then suddenly she was a sophomore which, by the way, was not a terribly enjoyable year to be her mother but she was still just as cute as can be.
Then I blinked and she was a junior.
Somehow I managed to get her to pose with her brother. There must have been a bribe involved.
Which brings us to last night and her last Homecoming dance. She’s a senior. Her dress is much more sophisticated than that pink dress I adored.
Still too short, but when your daughter regularly plays volleyball games in front of several hundred people wearing spandex short-shorts, Homecoming dresses seem modest by comparison.
Besides, she has her spandex on underneath. I figure if it covers those, it’s long enough.
And now it’s done. She has a final prom and then high school dances are over. She may attend formals in college, but that’s different. She’ll be getting dressed in a dorm room or sorority. I’ll have to see the pictures on facebook, not take them myself.
Separation anxiety has officially begun.