Looking at Jo this morning was like looking in the mirror 23 years ago. So many plans. So many dreams. So much longing to move on. To get there. To live it.
To finally, finally do all of the things that she knows in her heart of hearts that she can't wait to have, to do, and to be.
My baby girl is just like her Momma, the girl who announced to her startled date that he was The One just a month into the courtship. The young lady who plotted out the trajectory of her academic career with such precision that it amazed even the jaded counselors who tried to hold her back. The woman who knew exactly what month she wanted to have her next baby born in, not to mention the year.
And you know, it's not a bad thing, this dreaming. It's not bad to look ahead and smile in anticipation, knowing that what's coming is good. It's not bad to long for the experiences that will, in the end, bring you more joy than you've ever known could exist.
But what you've got right now, why ... that's just as good. Don't forget it, Jo. These are some good times. Twelve is a beautiful age. Not quite a woman, no longer a little girl. Responsibilities, yes ... but freedom the likes of which you'll never know again.
So take a good look around. Snap a photo in that razor-sharp mind of yours, and hide it away. You're going to miss this. Enjoy it while it lasts, Jo.