I remember one distinct moment when I knew I was no longer just a girl, I was a mama. We were camping in Door County, Wisconsin. Sabrina had invited a friend to stay with us for the week. Uninvited, but equally present, was a horrible stomach virus. First, her friend puked all over the back part of the camper, including all over the cute, little blue shag rug I put between the girl's beds. I pulled it out and suds it out in a hot bucket of soapy water. I called her girlfriend's mom, and (after many rounds of sickness) I fed her saltines and 7-up. This particular bug was hard-hitting and relentless and highly contagious. But I remember first staring long and hard at that smelly, revolting mess and thinking, "Now. I am truly a mother. Only a mom would do this." There was no one else to clean it up. I was it. I was the one who called upon to fix the problem. I was the mama. So I cleaned it up. And then, Sabrina got sick. And then, my husband followed su...