Egg Nog

My daughter just left to sit the ACT with Writing. The college quest continues. She opted for the ACT instead of the SAT because, she says, it just makes more sense to her, although she plans to sit the SAT too. She is remarkably chill about the whole thing. Last night, after she sharpened her No. 2 pencils and put them in her bag along with her school ID and the test ticket, she went to bed. At 12:25 a.m. I went to look in on her. She was still awake and watching Modern Family episodes on her laptop and giggling to herself. I just kissed her forehead and let her be.

She got herself up this morning, dressed and made herself oatmeal and coffee with egg nog in it (she swore it tasted good). We sat at the breakfast table chit-chatting about her friends. Now she's walking up the hill to the test site, her dad with her. Wish her luck! She is so capable and funny and kind and wise and I am so extravagantly blessed to be hers. But I hope she puts down her brilliant thoughts for the essay in handwriting the scorer will be able to read! She has her father's scratchy scrunched up handwriting. Her a's look like z's. Oh well, she'll be fine, that one.

Who knew our dreamy child who hardly ever spoke outside her home would grow up to be this gorgeous, competent young woman with a laugh like wind chimes and a heart full of grace? Wow.