Happy 18th Birthday Mary! Our Work Here is Done.

Happy birthday May May.

Our little schmoo girl.

Mary Ray.

Baby sunshine.

All the precious names you go by.

When I woke up this morning on your eighteenth birthday I felt a weight lifted off of me. I’m now the mother of two adult children. My work is done here. All those years of tucking you in at night and packing lunches and washing and ironing your little clothes, well, all those years are complete. Yes, our work is done here. No more Daddy singing songs to you before bed. Little after school snacks are replaced with occasional Starbucks iced coffee with your friends. I’m actually thinking I could take on some more students or do more accompanying. I mean, heaven knows Calvin has been completely independent these last three years, we barely talk to him more than twice a day, and we haven’t taken more than a dozen road trips to watch him perform. I think with you being 18 we are GONNA HAVE TIME ON OUR HANDS!!!!

Take September for instance, you only got to sing the national anthem at the Twins game and participate in 437 marching band competitions, plus another national anthem at the football game and the start of play rehearsals, because why wouldn’t you play piano in a fall play as well as the fall musical? It’s the Kotrba way. Congratulations by the way, on your Youth in Music Scholarship, which will be presented the the U.S. Bank Stadium this Saturday at the State Marching Band Competition. I knew somebody’s writing would earn this family some money some day. Certainly not mine. . . I also forgot to mention your September piano masterclass with our guest clinician, pulling a Debussy Pour le Piano Prelude out of your hat.

Congrats too on your national merit commendation. All these tests and awards seem to get squeezed into the cracks of life, but you are one smart cookie behind the curtain of it all.

I think October and November will give us a chance to bask in the glory of being almost empty nesters. We just have college visits and auditions, and the fall play and the fall musical. Wait. . I think the musical actually goes into December and overlaps with the studio recital, yah, that’s right. I had to glance over at the calendar I have tattooed to my right arm to check.

Okay. I don’t mean to be too sarcastic, and know It’s boring to just brag about how busy you are, but it’s my way of saying how amazing you are doing, and how HARD of a worker you are. I can’t believe you can do it all. I’m so proud of you. You said you wanted college to be mostly music with a sidebar of heavy academics. That’s pretty much what you got going this senior year, the Eastview band and choir plus differential equations and a a couple AP classes. And piano with your dear mother on the side.

Well, the year is already going much too fast but I’m sure it will slow down now that you are 18. I took some time out of getting a pedicure and eating some bon bons this morning to write this to you. I hope you have a blessed year full of family, friendship and faith, music and math and writing. And. . . even though you are a legal adult, I’m still gonna make sure you have black clothes clean to wear to every gig. I’m still gonna pack your lunch. Daddy is still gonna tuck you in after you tuck me in. Probably he’ll still sing a song. Tonight I made you a special dinner and I have a cake and all your presents, oh. . . wait. . . it’s the very last marching band rehearsal of eight years of Kotrba marching band commitments. I guess you can heat up some left overs before that and we will see you at 10:00, probably emotionally and physically wiped out.

You are crazy busy and still, we wouldn’t have it any other way. Hang in there. I hope we get to show up for your gigs for many, many years to come.

I hope the blog today is a little bit funny, because if I don’t laugh a little I will cry and never stop. Raising you has been a dream since the moment you were born. We made it through the too much stuff in your room years, and other normal bumps along the way, and here we are with the most beautiful young woman I have ever known, with wit and wisdom beyond your 18 years. God bless you today and always. You are forever my sunshine.