Mother of a teenager

I am the mother of a teenager. Yikes.


Thirteen years ago today I was cuddling a tiny newborn, so worried about every breath he took, every move he made. Thirteen years later . . . well, I still worry about every move he makes. LOL. Thankfully, God has given me a very good boy and I don't need to worry quite as much as I do. But I still do . . .

We woke Brady up with the traditional singing of Happy Birthday to you, accompanied by Cookie the bunny:





Nana and Grampy took him shopping at the mall (quite a feat on the tax-free shopping holiday) followed by lunch and a cookie cake at Chick-fil-A:





Then we returned home where Brady hung out with his buddy, Brian, then we met Brian's family at Ci Ci's pizza for dinner:



It was a very nice day. Two very special things made it even better:

My dad has a baseball glove that he got from his dad when he was a little boy. It's a first baseman's glove and it's one of his greatest treasures. Brady has always loved that glove and wears it whenever he sees it. On Brady's 13th birthday, my dad gave him the glove. It was a moment I will never forget.



We got a case for the glove, and it now resides safely as Brady's most treasured possession.

The second, slighly less meaningful but still great moment was that our summer-long search for a Nintendo Wii finally ended. Best Buy had a new supply in, and the boy got to buy a Wii. With his own money he'd been saving since Christmas.

Grampy's glove and a brand-new Wii. Looks like 13 is going to be a really good year . . .