The smile says it all.

I'm not supposed to blog about Paris. She tells me that it violates her privacy and makes her uncomfortable, too. However, today's milestone is too good to keep to myself.

Here's your hint. My friend Sharon Cohen posted this to my Facebook Page: Welcome to the New Driver's Parent Club. Valium is to the left. Martinis are to the right. The sound booth for screaming at insurance costs is straight ahead.

Yes, that day is here. She got her driver's license. I knew she would pass on the first try, just like I knew I wouldn't. She is a good driver. (For the record, my 16th birthday was the day we moved into our Anchorage house. My father and I pulled the five-speed out of the shipping container and I took the test in that, a car I had not driven in three months, on the ice covered roads of an Anchorage winter day.)

The proud mother in me is jumping up and down in happiness for her, and for our new freedom. The scared mother in me knows what's to come: worrying about her driving in the rain, worrying about her navigating the turkeys that linger on the roadside every fall or the bikers that speed out of Diablo, through the stop sign.

Dave deserves all the credit for helping her reaching this milestone. He spent hundreds of hours with her behind the wheel of the car.

Be safe, sweetheart. Be safe.