I don't know how it's possible, since I'm pretty sure I'm only twenty-seven or something, but today you are twenty years old.
We made it through infancy, the toddler years, the abject horror that is middle school, and now? We've made it through the teen years too.
We thrived. Don't tell me otherwise.
Hopefully, you've forgiven me for being so young and stupid and reckless when I had you. I had nothing, absolutely nothing to give you. Nothing of any value. Just love, love, love. So much love. So many laughs. Just my big, silly heart.
You took it and you loved me. You loved me for exactly the stupid, crazy, insane fool I was. I am.
We all grew up together, the three of us. We're all still getting to where we need to be.
Now, in so many ways, the two of you are the guides.
This world that you are navigating is not the world I grew up in. People talk so much smack about the people your age (if I hear one more word about Tide Pods I'm going to scream, I swear), but I see you and your whole generation so differently. You all are so much more, in so many ways. So open-hearted, so generous, so kind, so accepting. You have so many ideas, and so, so many dreams. You and your friends are good people. You are examples for us all.
You are hope.
You are my hope.
You make me so proud, every day of my life. I can never tell you enough.
It's not perfect. None of it. It never will be and I would never trade one second of the life I've had with you. For anything, ever.
Happy Birthday, babies.