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My baby is having her first sleepover and here's why I'm not freaking out

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An extremely important, utterly crucial, undeniably vital piece of my heart is sleeping outside of our home tonight for the very first time.

My baby -- my eight-year-old, first-born baby -- is having her first sleepover at her friends' house tonight for their birthday celebration.

Was she excited?


Every ounce of her being.

Was she nervous?

A little bit.


I'm holding up fine.


You don't believe me?

Why is that?

(sniff sniff)



I'm not crying!

I swear!

But, for real, I'm not crying.

And, get this, I'm not freaking out either, which is something I do over e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.


Because I know my girl is in great hands.

Scratch that.

I know my girl is in terrific hands.

She is in the hands of her friend's mother and father who I have absolutely no doubt will ensure she feels safe and loved while staying with them.

Young friendships are awesome.

They are fun and funny, and they are transformative for little young ladies.

Adult friendships are not as easy.

Adulting is hard.

And, being a friend is hard when you're steadily busy and stressed.

But, adult friendships that are built from your young ones' friendships, those can be magical.

When you find mom friends in the parents of your kids' friends, there's just nothing better.

Here's to our friends who support, love, and care for our kids as if they were their own.

Here's to our friends who not only accept a long-a** email about this being our daughter's first sleepover but tell us that our note is helpful and informative and even thanks us for it.

Here's to our friends who tell us to blow up their phone if that's what we need to do to feel comfortable.

Here's to our friends who make us feel so secure that we don't need to blow up their phone.

Here's to my friend who is hosting my daughter this evening as she attends her twin friends' birthday party.

Here's to me taking the night off from flying my helicopter super low thanks to a dear friend who believes in loving other people's kids (and mine) as if they were her own.

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