Does everyone hope next week never comes?

Is it just me or does everyone hope next week never comes?

My middle child, the easy-going Emilia Frances finishes school on Thursday.

Forever.

No more packed lunches, no more uniforms or mercy dashes with forgotten homework, no more night-time sport or parent teacher meetings, no more impossible drama costumes or lost permission slips.

I am going to miss it so much.

I didn't really want to write this column, mainly because Milli is too good.

Seriously, if you could bottle her you could sell her.

When her big brother left school it was easy to write about what a relief it was for all of us to get him through.

It was easy to have a laugh about the wasted hours in the principal's office and say thanks to the teachers who loved him despite it all.

When Milli asked if I was going to write one for her (one of the few perks of being my kid, apparently), I told her it was too hard because there wasn't anything to bag her for.

"What have you ever done wrong?" I asked.

"I ate too much bread in Year 10 and got a bit chubby," was the best she could come up with.

Sitting at my computer, I've relented. To know Milli is to love her and she's been like that since she was born.

In her pram she would giggle and shout, trying desperately to get the attention of old ladies in shopping centres.

As a toddler she was the first to give up her packet of chips when another kid got one they didn't like.

Her one life hiccup came at the end of Year 2 when there was talk of her repeating because she didn't seem to have any friends.

Truth was, she just liked hanging around the teachers. In high school she has thrived and she loves the teachers there, too.

The thing I love most about Milli is you just can't keep her down.

If John and I say no to a party or try to slow her down in any way, she just cops it.

Unlike our other teenage cherubs, Milli prefers to make us happy rather than rock the boat. Like I said, if you could bottle her, you could sell her.

And now she's moving on. Not so much our little girl, but a big girl taking everything she's learned into the wide world.

I know she has to grow up and leave. I know the next phase of her life will be exciting for me to watch and I know she's more than ready.

It's just me that's not.