Amanda’s high school commencement was last night. She’s already gone onto college (where she is doing very well and is quite happy, thanks for asking) and I had a hard time convincing her to go to the formal ceremony at all. She had stuff to do and wasn’t tremendously into the whole public thing. I insisted. I told her that after all these years of homework and alarm clocks, projects and coming up with bristol board or muffins on short order, that frankly, I didn’t give a crap if she wanted to go or was fulfilled by the experience. I wanted the experience, and I think (having done a pretty good job of the homework/ clock/ projects/ bristol board/ muffin thing) that I deserved it. After all of that, a mother wants to see her kid stand up there, get the diploma, smile and have their picture taken.
I told her that I consider it the least that I am owed for my contribution.
She went. (There’s a good girl.) She got her diploma. She earned a music award, and I got my moment.
These milestones are significant, I told Joe last night. Standing up there means something really important. Not just that she has the minimum required education…not just that she accomplished something that was difficult, but because that night changes what is possible in her life. Amanda can (and likely will – she’s young) screw up a fantastical number of things, but I feel like as the girls get older they hit these milestones that make you heave great sighs of relief. Your daughter turns 16? Awesome. No matter what, she can never be a 15 year old mother. 17? Wicked. She can never be a 16 year old addict. 18? The police can never bring her home charged under the young offenders act…..
After last night, we hit a big one.
Amanda can never be a high school dropout. Score.
For the record, though I didn’t get much done, (I’m just at the beginning of clue 7) I did only work on the Mystery Stole last night. Finally, some time ago I tried to explain to my American friends what the most iconic Canadian song was. I tried to tell them, that we all know this song, and they mocked me, and worse, I don’t think they believed me. For them, I have procured proof, when I whipped out my digital camera and recorded what Amanda’s school band was playing last night.
There you go. The song we can all hum up here. I’ll draw a name from among those who get it right and mail some sock yarn. Double points if an American wins.