Eighteen looks a lot different for my daughter than it did for my son.  My daughter is still a little girl.  Although she does enjoy clothes as gifts, as long as they are both fashionable AND comfortable, she still  longs for toys.  She thinks along the lines of a grade-schooler, not a high-schooler.

At eighteen, she never complains when we hold hands to walk to the car; she likes it.

You cannot compare siblings; I know that kids mature at different rates – but the difference between my son and my daughter at 18 is astounding to me.

I have a very vivid memory of asking my son, at 18,  about his phone bill and of him telling me, “Mom, I’m a grown man; I’ll take of that myself.”

He was a very responsible man long before age 18.  He had to be.

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