Last week my Daughter turned 18.
Eighteen!
Were did the time go? And don't give me that carp about her only being my daughter for 4.5 years, either. That has only made the time go even faster.
For her party, she wanted to go small. It was just a couple of her friends over on the weekend for an afternoon of Blues Clues, Charlie & Lola, and Pretty, Pretty Princess. She's got some great friends.
And the Cora decorated this cake…
Yeah, she's got mad skillz.
On her BIRTHDAY birthday, it was just the three of us, a bowl of Space Noodle pasta, and a giant cookie cake.
And she didn't feel different.
She'd been somewhat dreading this birthday as the end of her childhood. Now she was going to be "an adult". I think the court case really put a lot of focus on her turning 18. At 18 the parenting plan ended. At 18, she could legally make her decisions on who she see and associates with, who she doesn't. We tried to assure her that she wouldn't be a different person when she woke up the next day.
She didn't really believe us as we tucked her in the night before.
But I think that when she woke up and didn't feel the urge to sweep all her Tim Burton movie collectables off the shelves and walls, she started to believe us; that 18 wasn't a death sentence to her childhood that she'd built up to be in her mind.
Yep, I think she had a pretty good birthday. And she really needed that.
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For both of you who still wander around these parts, you may notice something slightly different about this blog. Over there –> there used to be a count down clock. It started at about 900 2.5 years ago and ran down to 0 00:00:00 last Tuesday. (Here's where it started LINK.)
The Daughter has turned 18. And, "No", no progress was made.
His loss.
2 comments:
His goal never was to actually fix his relationship with his kid or to learn a single damn thing. If that had been his goal, he would have done it or, at the very least, started making some small progress towards it in the family therapy sessions we paid so much for.
But, no. Instead, he destroyed his relationship with her completely. He obliterated it with his head held high.
His goal was not to fix anything, it was to tell everyone (including the therapist) how wrong he thinks we all are. And he did that. Mission accomplished.
He would rather stubbornly refuse to admit any fault than have any sort of relationship with his daughter, even if it cost him everything. Which it did. Nothing is more important to him than thinking he is right. It has been his downfall a million times before and it will always be his downfall. If he couldn't pull his head out of his ass for HER, then he, clearly, never will.
It is his loss much more than hers. She has never been happier or stronger.
It takes much more than sperm to be a father.
I have never known (what little I see) of any man more than YOU to take up the position of fatherhood with such love and devotion! THAT is what a DAD is!!!!
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