As my older child – the girl – prepares to leave for college, I’ve been reflecting on her and us and all of the things. One memory that keeps surfacing is our first visit to the pediatrician after she was born. The receptionist handed me forms to fill out, and under “mother’s name,” I put my mother. Hi. Let’s call it one of those aha moments, but in very (very) slow, embarrassing motion. We’ve come a long way.

On top of catching on to the fact that *I* am the mother, I’ve learned many things about myself and parenting over these (almost) two decades. More recently – given her impending departure – I’ve been thinking about how much I’ve learned from her more specifically. Here are the three lessons that have been most inspiring.

Slow and steady wins the race (shout out to Aesop, though I’m not even sure she’s read that fable. My bad): Unlike her madre who either makes quick decisions and/or agonizes for hours over, say, the “best” toaster oven – this girl takes her time with things. She puts in the work/research. She doesn’t jump in head first: She has a plan. She is willing to wait. When she was a child, I sometimes worried that she was too risk-averse and that opportunity would pass her by (Side note: Who knew that non-risk taking could be a parental worry? I’m here to tell you it can and it was). But no: Turns out, being steady gets it *done.* Time and again, her efforts are rewarded. Not immediately, but in the far more important big picture. It’s shown me that being careful pays off. That immediate reward is not the only reward. That she’s got this thing in her own way.

LOVE YOUR BODY. This one needs to go in all caps because I/we Gen-Xers really need it bashed into our craniums. In this era of social media and crop tops and booty shorts, somehow my kid is comfortable in her own skin (or fakes it till she makes it which is same/same). She wears what she wants and when she and her compadres post pictures on insta, their comments tend to be things like “HOTTIE” and “U R gorge” and “Iconic.” This is not a flex on her beauty or her looks. This is a flex on girls hyping girls and loving each other as they are. Of course body shaming isn’t some relic of the past. But maybe, just maybe, it will be a thing of the past in the near future. I know I can’t speak for all, but I can speak about this one human, this amazing human, who, through her quiet confidence, has taught an old dog the new trick of loving her own body more. The one that is 53; that housed two children; that fought off cancer; that lost its ovaries and estrogen but can still walk for miles and do Pilates and, in my own mind, take down men-folk if need be.

Laugh a lot – at yourself, at the situation, at all of it. Though – because? – her generation has had far too many hits (Social media. Media. School shootings/lockdowns. The pandemic. THE FUCKING PANDEMIC); though Gen-Z’s mental health may be, well, in the gutter….my kid still knows how to laugh and poke fun at things including herself (and us. So much us)

In the dark Covid times, we all became pranksters because, like, what else was there to do? And she was the queen. My favorite was the time when she prank called her own pa and convinced him that she was an Instacart driver looking to deliver our groceries. Probably had to be there, but suffice it to say that it involved the mister running around the house flinging open doors and screaming things like “can you see me now? I’m waving.”

Another time when we were playing trivial pursuit (quaint, I know) – a game annoyingly dominated by husband – both she and I had secured our pink wedges. Husband landed on pink and (hallelujah) got the answer wrong. My girl, deadpan, turned to me and said “Imagine not being able to get the pink wedge.” That’s the kind of genius I’m talking about.

I once read that when people are laughing, they (subconsciously) look at the person they feel closest to. When my daughter is around, that person is inevitably her.

So here’s what I’ve learned from you, my grown daughter: Go forward, kick ass. Take names. You got this. And because of you, maybe I do too.