<p>So it has come to this. The applications are in, and some acceptances too. I'm trying to hold it together as I think about how far she's come, and how we got to this place:</p>
<p>The first time I read Dr. Seuss, and the first word she read ("cat").</p>
<p>The informal visits through grade school and junior high, just to show her that college is expected, normal, a necessary step. </p>
<p>The struggles with Math, the "gifted and talented" tag for English, the bad teachers, the good, the life-changers.</p>
<p>The music teacher who dragged 80 kids to Europe, and the music teacher who fought a losing battle with cancer.</p>
<p>The 7th grade ACT tracking tests, the PSAT and the ones that counted. </p>
<p>Watching upperclass friends from HS theater leave for NYU and Brown and elsewhere.</p>
<p>The high school ups and downs, dates, APs. The first steps, the first class, the first recital, the first scratchy sounds from the viola and the "I" at State, the first Daddy-Daughter dance - and the last. </p>
<p>I just read a recommendation from one of her teachers that brought me to tears, knowing it had somehow all worked, even with the moves and the struggles and everything else that 21st century life throws at them, and that a genuine "good kid" emerged on the other end.</p>
<p>Here's to the HS class of 2010.</p>