The birthday boy...

I woke feeling a bit dizzy this morning, attempting to wrap my mind around having two teenagers in the house. (I won't count the one who thinks she is a teenager!) Teenagers? It feels like Shane and I were teenagers a few years ago - so, how are we old enough to have two of our own? It is irony - the passage of time…when you are a kid, Christmases seemed years apart, yet as adult, mere months.

Today, my "little man" turned thirteen. He was a baby last week - big blue eyes locking with mine, happily cooing and smiling. He was a toddler yesterday - flooding the kitchen, lining his toy trucks, and running circles around me. I love the teen that he has become, though. He is courteous and thoughtful, my right-hand-man helper…his comedic faces entertain us. He sings like an angel - I SO wish he would publicly duet with me…maybe he will some day. Pushing tones up from the diaphragm, always in tune - he can belt it out perfectly - the kind that would make Mrs. P proud.

He leaves tomorrow - a week in northern Georgia with the boy scouts. It wasn't long ago that the thought of sleeping outside, amidst the bugs (forget the wild animals, it is the bugs - haha), worried him.  He is my worrier - concerned about the "what next" and "how long" - the logistics of every event. Schedules, not the fluidity of life, are what ground
him. Yet, off he will go. He doesn't consider himself brave, but I see that he is.

My son - my boy-sandwhich, born between two girls, is now a teenager. Happy birthday, Evan - Mom will always love you.