It’s been a blur since Friday afternoon. Homecoming weekend for my daughter’s high school meant a Friday parade and tailgate, a rainy football game, and a busy Saturday getting her ready for the school dance.

The weather was fine for the parade and band parent tailgating but as the evening progressed, a band of bruised-looking clouds intensified on the edge of the sky and by the second quarter, they burst. The temperature dropped and sheets of rain billowed in the stadium lights. An umbrella pinwheeled wildly across the field (thankfully not hitting any of the color guard or getting caught in the bass drum). I ensconced myself in a plastic poncho and loaned my blanket to a blue-lipped kid behind me wearing only shorts. The band, weirdly, sounded the best I’ve heard them this season – maybe they just wanted to get the hell off the field.

Saturday morning dawned crisp and blustery. This whole Homecoming thing has changed a lot since I was in high school. The kiddo’s big obsession was her nails. She wanted a full set of acrylics and went online, booked the appointment, and had the confirmation sent to my phone. As I said to friends, I have entered into what could potentially be the golden era of my parenting: when I just have to pay for things and wait in the car.

I wish I could post pics of her and her boyfriend but I keep her face off the blog since this is my story, not hers. But she looked gorgeous in her black lace dress – her boyfriend was dashing in a black jacket. There were pictures at my house with his mom, there were corsages, and her friends arrived – a group of sweet, scary smart and very eclectic and talented kids (who instantly recognized that I was listening to Miles Davis), took pictures in the park under the swirling sun and clouds and leaves and rain, had dinner at the pub and went for slurpees after the dance was over.

I waited up for her and when she got home, she immediately cast off her high sequined shoes and dropped into the couch with Sarge. The evening was fine, better than fine, quite fun. I made her grilled cheese and we talked until she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

Life with a teenager is hard and there are ups and downs. You walk a fine line of being involved and staying clear; living vicariously through them and also trying to teach them how to rely on themselves. They push you away and pull you close with dizzying speed. There are wild emotions because their brains haven’t developed and are flooded with chemicals. And so when we have times like this, when everything is just fine, better than fine, you take a deep breath and say a prayer of gratitude.