|Caroline at 3, offering advice and direction|
My daughter’s name appears on this page all the time, so I won’t bore readers with yet another Caroline story. I’ll sum her up this way:
When I was about 34 weeks pregnant with Caroline, the younger of my two children, I experienced a complication, and my doctor ordered an ultrasound. This was 1991 and ultrasound machines were nowhere near as high-tech as they are today, but the way she happened to be lying gave us a perfect view of her little face.
And I swear to you – even in utero, she looked irritated. In a “Let’s get on with this and get me out of here” kind of way.
Caroline is many things – talented. Smart. Kind. Beautiful. Driven. But she would also be the first to admit that she’s frequently irritated. And always in a hurry.
When she was in elementary school, she was more than ready for middle school. Halfway through middle school, she was itching to go to high school. And her senior year? Forget it. She was halfway out the door.
This year’s been much the same. She’ll graduate from Drake in a couple of weeks, but she was ready to leave last semester. Not that she hasn’t loved being there; she most certainly has. But Caroline is always ready for the next thing.
And that next thing is a job. She’ll not only teach vocal music at Hiatt Middle School, but she has plans to start a hip-hop aerobics group. And a show choir. And, oh yes, in her spare time, stage a version of the musical “Fame.”
As her mother, my job has perpetually been to do the following: Nod appreciatively, maybe offer a comment, then get the heck out of the way.
She may be 21, but I don’t see any reason to start doing things differently now.