In a few weeks, my oldest will turn 16. Her request was very simple. She wanted the ballet and a nice dinner.

We celebrated today, so that we could see Swan Lake. We ate too much and sang as loudly as we could in the car.

We discussed the really important things, like “when is the proper time to start headbanging in Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody?” We talked about why Ariel might not be the best princess role model with her disobedience and all. We asked the big questions like, “what does it mean when there is a malt dusting on a milkshake?”

We gushed over costumes and toe shoes and spins that went on and on.

I’ll save my usual birthday letter for her actual day, but I just wanted to remember today. It was good. Like, pinch me, is this really my life, good.

I know tomorrow will be back to diapers, tantrums, laundry, trash, dishes, biting, carpool, and coffee, but I just want to write down these days so that I can scroll back and smile.