Wished Away

Years ago, when the kids we're young I read a list, compiled by the wonderful Erma Bombeck, reflecting on all the things she might like to re-do, if she had the chance.

One in particular always stuck with me.

"Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle."

It wasn't the God, or the Miracle part that got to me (to be completely honest, I had no recollection whatsoever about that part), but it was the idea of "wishing" something away.

And boy have I done a ton of that.

I wished those early days of colic would end. They were terrible.

I wished she could sleep through the night, eat solid food, sit up unassisted, crawl, walk....

I wished she would get potty trained more quickly, so we could stop spending so much money on diapers.

I wished she would grow up and get along with her buddies instead of biting them and leaving teeth marks on their arms as a souvenir.

I wished she wouldn't cry and carry on every time I dropped her at preschool.

I wished she would get along nicely with her sisters.

I wished she wouldn't argue with me about tucking in her shirt, or which socks she was going to wear. I wished she would just listen once in a while.

I wished she would grow up more quickly.

And then one day, she was a teenager.

And then I stopped wishing she would grow up more quickly, and started wishing that the growing up would slow down.

I wished she didn't want to have her eyebrows waxed, her hair highlighted, or her belly button pierced.

I wished I didn't have to ask her to "make wise choices" every time I dropped her at a party.

I wished I didn't have to pick her up at midnight. Or one. Or two. Then, I wished that she didn't have a drivers license so I wouldn't have to wait up and worry until she got home.

And, finally, I wished that this moment wouldn't get here so fast.

Tomorrow morning, my Hayley, my oldest, leaves for college. She's ready, more than ready. The car is packed, her courses are picked, and she's said her goodbyes to all of her friends.

And I'm proud of her, excited for her, confident in her ability to find success in all of her endeavors. She's smart and kind and loyal and beautiful. She's sensitive and funny and energetic and determined. She's my pride. My joy.

I have only one problem.

I just wish we didn't have to say goodbye so soon.

Sigh.