Last night the realisation hit me that my babies are not babies any more.  It full on smacked me in the face, not once, but twice.

We made a last minute decision to go to bingo (freebie Thursday) and as we were waiting for the taxi I gave Rachel (for new or non-regular readers, she's my daughter) a quick ring to see if she was going too.  She was just waiting for her friend to pick her up and said she would meet us there.

During one of the breaks in bingo she said,
"I've decided what you can get me for my birthday." 
(She's 20 next week.  EEK!)
"Can you get me some B&Q vouchers?  I want to paint the living room and the kitchen.  I can't afford to move so I might as well start decorating."

the night of 21.04.11
There.  Right there.  WHAM!  A grown-up present request.

A little bit later we went to a pub for a drink.  And a dance.  We had actually gone in search of karaoke but it was not to be.  I felt a bit "old" but shook off the self-consciousness with a couple more glasses of lager and strutted my stuff.  Suddenly "The One And Only" blasted out over the speakers.

There.  Right there.  WHAM!  The song that was  #1 in the charts when Rachel was born.  

And that's what she is - she's my one and only... my first born.  I'm not sad.  I'm proud of the way my babies are growing-up.  They are a measure of my success.  I'm just getting a bit reflective when one of them is about to be not-a-teenager-any-more.