To the One I Get to Call My Daughter: Welcome to Your Teen Years, Baby Girl.

My eldest daughter turned 13 last week. I find it slightly surreal that I’m parenting a legit teenager now. It wasn’t too long ago that I was cradling her in my arms at six days old, much like the way she's holding her newborn sister here. I didn’t know then that I would be her mom someday. I consider it an immense responsibility and a great privilege to be called 'mom' by another woman's child. The tragedy and the beauty of that isn’t lost on me.

No matter how we got here, being a mom is a wild test of endurance through the life span, and right now, I'm in the thick of it. She wants me to be her friend. But I can’t. She’ll have lots of friends in her life, but only one mom. And this is an all encompassing, important job. I need to help her see these years through—all the mess, and all the glory.

It’s hard to believe that in 5 years time, she’ll be graduating from high school, my son will be finishing up elementary, and my baby girl will be in Kindergarten. Time is slipping away faster than I can grasp it.

This one has the mother wound, and I worry for her the most. The middle school years have been nothing short of a challenge. I try to help her drown out the noise, but it’s not easy. On any given day, I advocate on her behalf, dispense wisdom, get angry, become tender, provide guidance and just try to keep her and her siblings watered and fed. I'm a bomb-ass mom from a whimsical and advocacy perspective. But the reality is that I get overwhelmed sometimes, and there are moments I suck at juggling it all. And she lets me know. Oh boy, does she ever. I remind her that while I have worked with plenty of youth her age, I have never actually parented and actively raised one. I'm learning too. All while healing the wounds my own parents left me with at the same time.

The thing is, I know she's resilient. I know she's determined, and I know that no matter what, she knows she can come to me for anything. So as much as she needs me to be her soft landing, I think this is the part where I let her fly.

So fly baby. Fly.