Thirteen Years

Thirteen years ago today, our world changed forever.

This is for you, Jordan Quinn...
























































































Happy Birthday, my sweet boy...








Thank you for the best thirteen years of my life.

Lump In My Throat

4th grade Nutcracker play.

They have it every year.

I knew she would have a solo.

I knew she had been practicing for weeks in the dining room with her earphones on.

I knew she would be wearing the white tights I bought her.

I knew her hair would be up.

I knew she had a little make up on.

I knew she would be cute.

But what I didn't know...what I wasn't ready for...was this sight:















I snapped away at my camera, trying to balance between documenting her every move...and pulling the camera away from my eye to just...watch her.











She has more poise and confidence at ten years of age than I had at 10, 15, or hell, even now sometimes.

She amazes me.





Take a bow, Baby Girl...




I loved how she would stand when waiting for her turn...and the following photo will be blown up into poster size...asap:





It's funny how, when there is a crowd of children standing in front of you, the face you focus on, the only one from which you cannot remove your gaze, is THAT one.
Here she is, demonstrating why her teacher describes her as somewhat "chatty":


If this night were not incredible already, there was something else that made it even better. My MOM surprised Katie by coming to her play.

Yes, the Mom who lives 3 hours away. On a school night.
Which means, work night.

Backstory:
Over Thanksgiving, Katie had asked her Grandma "Are you coming to my play?"

"Oh, I don't know, honey"

"But you came to see Jordan in the Nutcracker"
(he was the Nutcracker, and it was a huge deal)

"That's true..."

Hmmm. Mom said after that conversation, she knew she would make it happen. Unbeknownst to me. She just walked into the house as I was making ham sandwiches. She had skipped lunch in order leave work early, drove across the state of Florida, and walked into our front door so she could see her Katie dance.

Thank you, Mom. Tears form in my eyes as I think of it.

Katie will remember that forever. So will I.




And of course...there's our Baby Lily Grace. That sweet child sat on her Daddy's lap throughout the entire play, quiet as can be, chewing on a program, and cheering on her cousin. And she wore her pink tutu, just for the occasion.

Oh...how we love this baby.



And I love how many people love my child...

what a lucky girl.

A Tree Full of Memories

"When tears are in your eyes
It's time to look inside
Your heart can find another way

Believe in what I say
Don't throw this time away
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day

Christmas Day...

So let the shadows go
And drift away like snow
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day

Christmas Day...

So dream until the night
Becomes the morning light
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day
Tomorrow will be Christmas Day"

~Enya, "The Spirit Of Christmas Past"

Every time I open the box marked "Christmas ornaments", I take a deep breath, and brace myself.

Just a little.

Hoping they will still be intact, just as I remember them, just as special, like time has not altered them one bit after spending 11 months in the attic.

Hoping that they will all be there, with not one missing...that I will remember the significance of each piece, and that the memories each one holds will still feel just as fresh as they did the first day on that tree.

But mostly, I brace myself for the pangs of love I feel when I look at the photos. Younger versions of the children I adore so much. I miss those kids. I miss them dearly.

I ache to hold them, hear their voices, brush the fine hair from their foreheads, smell their skin, and just have a nice cuddle and chat.

And yet...I can never have them back.
It's just the way it is. Just the way it is for every mother in the world, but somehow I want to break the rules and travel back in time to be with my babies.

But alas...I can't. Their little faces hang on the tree now, preserved in glitter, popsicle sticks, glue, and tempera paint.

And that's what I brace myself for.

I teared up as I looked at them. I always do. J and K just rolled their eyes. Patted me on the back a little. One of them said "I knew she was gonna do that".

If only they knew.

Anyway...
Jordan and Katie love to trim the tree. They especially like finding "their" ornaments, and will rummage through the box until each one has a pile of their own to hang.

Despite being ages 10 and 12, their tree trimming skills could use a little work. They hang them in clusters. All bunched up in sections. They leave wide open, huge gaps of evergreen. My sense of symmetry, my need for it, is offended.

But I let them at it. Sat on the couch with Jamie, listened to the Christmas music, and we watched them dig, rummage, unwrap, sort, and hang each one.

In clusters.

And after her Daddy lifted Katie up to put the angel on top, as he does every year...

the tree was perfect.









Jordan loooves eggnog. I guess he gets this from his father. (Katie and I...not so much)






I miss this face...






Daddy's little girl...



My boy's Kindergarten face...(thank you, Mrs. Riddle...for the two following ornaments, I could not live without)



and again, for my girl: (needs some glitter TLC stat)



Our first year with Jordan:



And with Katie (I remember being excited it had some pink, that this felt so "girly")



Not sure which kid this was for...(this admission brought horror to my children's faces)



We gave this to Jordan when he played The Nutcracker in his 4th grade school play...the overwhelming pride I felt for him on that night comes rushing back when I look at this...


Thank God I dated some of these...



My three favorite Santas watched on...




My mischievious elf (her face says it all):


And this one from Jamie's parents, after one of their trips...I miss "Nana" and "Papa" during this time of year. They would have been so proud of the people my kids are becoming. And Jordan and Katie would be better people for knowing them. When Barb gave it to us, it seemed insignificant...just another ornament for the tree(Jamie's Mom always loved giving ornaments). Now, it's one of the most precious one hanging...right in front.


So...the tree has been trimmed.

Not one ornament matches.

They are chipped, dented, bent, and a little worn for the wear.

And asymmetrical.

But they are memories. Precious ones.

And I wouldn't have the tree any other way.

My heart is full.

Merry Christmas...

Coffee Talk

About once a month...

on a weekend morning...

Jordan shuffles out of his bedroom, hair crumpled, wearing only his boxers...

and he declares (in his sleepy voice) :

"I think I'll have a cup of coffee."

So, we silently smirk as he confidently meanders over to the mug drawer, carefully chooses the appropriate container, measures his creamer, and pours himself a Cup O' Joe.

He slurps his coffee loudly, smacking his lips.

I sooooo love to watch him.

It is the cutest thing ever.

On this particular morning, he decided to add "reading the newspaper" to his growing up routine.

WHAT!!?? Who IS this child??!!

Uhhhh...cue Mom...snapping pictures.

I couldn't help it.











Is it possible to love him even more?? Yes...yes...YES.