Once upon a windy day.... 18 years arrived just like THAT!

We were stationed on the West Coast. The Marine was in RECON and it was 1990. There are several dates that stick out in my mind. August 2, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, Recruit 1 arrived the following month, and 9 weeks later she and I said goodbye to The Marine for almost 11 months during Desert Storm.

She was a bright spot in an otherwise uncertain and frightening time. I say frightening because there were a few moments I was really afraid it would only be her and I, that the Marine would not come home. However I had great support from my parents and I did what any young wife and mother would do. I taught Recruit 1 how to shop! She learned very very well... Can't wait for her to get a job...

(She was trying to get Recruit 6's shoes on when I started the impromptu photo shoot...She is a fabulous big sister!)

She was a real doll:

One time in a grocery store not long after The Marine Deployed I had her dressed in a little snow suit. It was December and she looked just like a little Doll.

I had her sitting in the front of the shopping basket. The little quilted suit had her sitting straight up with her arms held out at her sides. I kept the hood up because her big blue eyes looked so cute popping out from the middle of the fur trim...

I walked through the produce section chatting with her as we shopped.

Soon I noticed a woman sort of eyeballing me as I shopped.

I assumed it was because my baby was so fabulous and who wouldn't eyeball a fabulous baby. Plus I was such a good mommy, talking to my child and including her in my discussion about fruit.

The woman moved closer, presumably to gaze upon the beauty of my child. Why else would she be staring?

Recruit 1 chose at that moment to squeak and move her stiff little body sideways to look at me out of the hood of the snow suit. The woman about jumped out of her pants.

Startled I looked at the woman and she defensively and rather gruffly said she thought that it was a baby doll I had stuck in the basket and was talking to it.

I looked at her and said, rather strongly, "NO! She's a real baby"... and then quickly walked away. I realized then, the woman had been FOLLOWING me around the store thinking I was crazy.

If I ever go crazy rest assured, I will do something more fun than chat about produce to a baby doll.... in fact, I guarantee I would come up with something way cooler than that.

Ever since then Recruit 1 has continued to bring all kinds of attention to herself and our family! She is Bright, Bold, and Beautiful. She's kind of bouncy too... (okay I threw that in to see how long she takes to check the blog...)

Did I mention she has great hair too? Even blowing all in her face... I'll know she has checked the blog when I hear her yell from upstairs "MOOOOTHERRRRR!"

I really really love her. I learn more and more every day what my father was trying to say when he would say things like "it doesn't last long". "Tomorrow she'll be grown and gone", etc. I used to wish he would quit being the voice of doom and just let me enjoy the moment. Not ruin it with predictions of moments lost, never to be recaptured. It really annoyed me and was so doomsday-ish.

Now I realize, it wasn't the voice of doom, it was the voice of experience.

Did he regret not holding more tightly to the moments my sister and I were little? Or did he enjoy me better as a little baby than as an adult? Hard to say... Come to think of it he always talked about how sweet I was when I couldn't talk...

It was also the voice of warning.

He was warning me to pay attention, not take for granted my time with my babies and tiny toddlers, and ENJOY the moments that would become only memories all too soon. He was also warning me it wasn't as much fun at times when they got bigger. Hmmm, was I THAT painful to raise?

Dang it, he was right. "TOO SOON TOO SOON!" I wanted to scream when she woke up and was 18. EIGHTEEN! Seriously, I don't feel like the mom of an EIGHTEEN year old. (here's where you post comments about how I don't LOOK like the mom of an eighteen year old...)

Recruit 1 had to be tough. She is my first pancake. She had to endure my learning how to pin cloth diapers. I practiced my parenting skills and decisions on her first. She was the first to get her ears pierced, wear make up, DATE, and now get her driver's license. We are growing up together. (*Note to male children... you are expected to skip the pierced ears and make up...)

Heavenly Father gave me a bright, bold and beautiful spirit to be my first pancake because he knew she was the best fit for the job. I won't call her a sweet spirit... Um, yes I will. She IS a sweet, strong, loving daughter of Heavenly Father that has been loaned to me for a little while to love and cherish. I'm honored to be her mother, if not a little in awe at times.... I love you Big Girl!