...10,11,12...

Last night when Jim and I were on a run I asked him if it is true that Quinn and Logan are really turning 13 on their next birthday, because I just can't wrap my head around that concept. Sure, I can count higher than 12, but when it relates to my children somehow 13 does not want to follow 12. Not that I have a better number in mind, but 13? 13! Mind you, their birthdays don't happen until next May, but they are growing and changing so quickly right now and I just don't want to think about them getting any older or bigger. I am not keeping pace with them now, so how am I going to manage when the hormones and growth spurts really kick in? They have already stretched out 3/4 of an inch in less than two months and I swear every morning they look taller than the night before. Thinking about 13, I immediately start to downward spiral and my mind jumps from 13 to moving out of the house. There is no in between in my mind. It is simply 13 and then gone. My little loaves of love are little no more and if I could stop the clock, I would because they are still the yummiest, sweetest, funniest, perceptive and loving boys I know and I just want to revel in all their silken goodness before they sprout facial hair and want to spend all their time with friends and at ballet.