You know that you're a grown up, and also that you're the mom of the house, when you have to bake your own birthday cake the night before your birthday.
So far it has gone much better than my 16th birthday when I reached in the oven (ok, so I was baking my own cake then too) to pull out my cake and tossed my hair out of my eyes. Which jerked my arm upwards into the heating element, causing me to put a nice, instantly blistered, sear mark on my forearm. Ouch. Happy Sweet 16 to me. At least the cake was good. And this year I successfully removed the cake from the oven without injury.
But now I've just realized that I'm double 16 tomorrow and because I still feel 16 a lot of the time I'm depressed now.