And waiting for her letter to Hogwarts. She's already got her uniform and her house all picked out! (Yes, I know, I need to find a sweater or vest to put under the robe so her tie doesn't stick out like that.)
I thought the shock of Carolyn turning "double digits" last year was going to be the worst it got, but eleven? Eleven is astonishing. Sixth grade, walking home from school on her own, going on sleepovers, getting an allowance, carrying a pay-as-you-go phone. She can legally babysit now. Her friends are starting to talk about boys and email and text each other.
I am simultaneously too old for this and not old enough. I guess that's the definition of "parent"?
