My beautiful daughter Missy will be turning 13 on Tuesday. 13. I'm going to have a teenager.
I am both thrilled and scared by this fact. Technically, she will be an adult in 5 years. This makes me laugh, because this is a girl who still is nervous about calling her own grandparents, will make a terrific dinner but "forget" to put a single ingredient away, take her dog for a walk and forget to bring her cell phone, and use 20 towels a week and then wonder where all the towels are. However, she is grown up in so many ways. She adores animals and loves to take care of them. She is game to babysit Bucket, his disability doesn't phase her. She invites her friends over for dinner when she knows their families don't have enough money for groceries that week. She is quiet and shy, but boisterous with people she knows well. I just simply adore her.
Mr. R came home unexpectedly last night (shame on him for scaring me by walking in the door while I was not ready!) and it was so nice lying in bed with him. As I got up and made coffee this morning, he asked me to bring him a cup. As I sat next to him with a steaming mug of joe, he said, "I had the cutest dream." Now, Mr. R doesn't generally tell me he has cute dreams. I said, "You? What did you dream about?" And he said, "We had the cutest little baby girl. She looked like Missy, but had black hair and blue eyes. And she was wearing a little pink dress and had a bowl haircut." I thought, awwwww. I'd love to have another baby girl with him. Mr. R was never scared to change diapers (although he certainly snuck off when he knew there was a bad one to attend to!) or give a bottle, or kiss "owwies". He gave baths, and burped them until they threw up down his back. He would help them get dressed, and read them stories, and color with them. I mean, when I talk about what an amazing father Mr. R has been, I get a little teary.