Holding On, Letting Go

We're in that liminal phase right now where Beatrix is both an adult and still a youth. 

She's old enough to get tickets for Phoebe Bridgers, in Brooklyn, when she's at school this fall, and to put together a group of her new classmates to go. She's young enough that she still needs my ninja ticketing moves (and "her" credit card that's tied to our account) to get them. She's old enough to remember to thank me.

She's young enough to forget to check her spam to see if Sarah Lawrence had sent her instructions on how to set up her student portal (which of course they did, some time ago, and she did not notice.) She's old enough to promptly freak out that, in said portal, there are many important and imminent deadlines — and to work on plans for meeting those deadlines. She's young enough that she's still asleep this morning while Patrick called her doctor's office and ran a whole bunch of paperwork out there to get signed off on this morning (wow, New York is STRICT on vaccines and things like TB status, good for them!)

She's old enough to not want my advice about dorms and young enough to be freaking out about them (SLC alums in my network, perhaps you should reach out to her on that one!)

She's young enough to put every grad party on the shared calendar and old enough to realize that attending them all is too much.

She's young enough to reply "in a minute" when I text her to ask her to do something, but old enough that she usually actually remembers to do it.

It's going to be a summer full of ups and downs!