Seven years ago today, Jordyn turned me into a Grandma...just like that.
Groundhog's Day, 2004 - When Shannon told me that Jordyn was born, I put on my wise old mother/brand new Grandma hat and told Shannon that "Punxatawney Phil wasn't the only one to come out of a hole today". I know she appreciated my sage advice.
Jordyn is having a Princess birthday party. I know if I lived in FL, I'd be on the guest list...we have that Princess thing in common, Jordyn and I.
Jordyn loves Barbies and "twirly" dresses and nail polish and wishes she had ruby slippers.
She's smart, she's funny. She has an amazing giggle.
I miss her.
She is opinionated - when she saw me with long hair, she told me she liked my "old hair" better.
And about that? I like my old hair better, too! Told you she was smart!
I will call her later today, and ask about the cupcakes Mommy made for her class party.
Hopefully, we'll still have power, and I'll be able to see her (via Skype) in the dress we bought her.
Our Princess is growing up, much too fast. She used to try to con me into giving her a vitamin by saying she had a "heggache" (headache) - but I didn't fall for that ploy.
We'd play Restaurant, and she'd cook me the most delicious plastic food in her toy kitchen.
Tomorrow, she'll sit at her talking Cinderella vanity (a gift from Mommy and Daddy), and apply her makeup.
Time keeps slipping away - seven years have gone by in a flash.
Next thing I know, she'll be wearing real makeup, and falling in love with her Prince. I'm sure I'll have lots of sage advice for HIM, too.
Happy Birthday, Princess Jordyn!
Wind rearranging the fallen snow,
like sheets on the clothes line,
getting new wrinkles in the breeze
The streets, deserted, white after the storm
Only rising temperatures and sunshine
Will clear away its winter coating
Too cold for slush, no melting today
Icicles hanging from every vertical surface
Windshields frosted, opaque headrests visible
Horizontally, sleet is stubborn, as difficult to clean up
as spilled sugar on a kitchen floor
Broom and shovel, inadequate tools for the job
Trees, straining to stand upright
their sparkling branches laden with ice and sleet
Tinkling like beads on cornrowed heads with each blast of wind
Branches litter the landscape, skittering across the roof
Their icy burden too heavy to bear
As they surrender to the weight and the wind, falling earthward...will they bring an end to our warmth?
Inside, we are safe and warm, cocooned against the elements
but we look outside often, concerned
What does Mother Nature have up her sleeve now?