My Heart Might Really Explode

How is it possible to keep falling in love with someone over and over again? Although, I do fall in love again with Dave, it’s Conor who keeps making my heart want to explode out of my chest and shoot fireworks over my head.



When last we left the Mother Thing family, we had gone all the way around our ass to get to our elbow. Upon arriving at our elbow (i.e., West Virginia), we prepared for Cousin Rachel's wedding. Cousin Rachel is Conor's godmother and a recent graduate of the Naval Academy. As a four-year starter for the Naval Academy volleyball team and 3.9 GPA physics major, she has real problems with focus, talent and drive. She's also beautiful. Nonetheless, she still agreed to be Conor's godmother. And when she asked Conor to be the ring bearer in her wedding, we were thrilled. And under-prepared for the cuteness that would ensue.

Conor and the flower girl (age 2) practiced very, very hard at the rehearsal walking up and down and up and down the aisle holding hands. I told Conor he had to help her because she was so young. (I figured that would keep him less frightened for himself) But when they had to walk down the aisle for real, he was carrying a pillow and she was carrying her basket. They couldn’t hold hands and I think, by Conor’s slightly frightened expression, it was a bit scarier for them both.

When Conor arrived at my pew, he worriedly whispered, “Mommy! She didn’t drop her flowers!!” “It’s OK, honey!” I assured him. And then she realized what she had done, and turned her flower basket completely upside down and dumped them all right there in front of us! It was verrrry cute.

The two of them passed out in the pew during the service, exhausted from their adrenaline rush. But then they got better.

The reception turned into a dance-o-rama. This is a preview of Conor in about 18 years at a college formal (from the beginning of the reception), a little sweaty, a little too happy, and eyes partly closed.

And this is what Conor and his date are going to look like at the end of the evening.


Let me tell you that my shy son danced. He danced his heart out in the middle of the dance floor with strangers coming to take pictures of his adorable self as he danced. Conor kept trying to get her to twirl (because he and I twirl when we dance) but at 2 years old, she rightfully was not quite getting his lead on the twirling.

I tell you it was an amazing sight. He was in the spotlight for an entire day and blossomed in a way I could have never imagined. He never melted down once which alone is pretty impressive for an almost 4 year old.

And the next morning, he woke up very early still buzzing from the previous day’s excitement. He snuggled in bed with us and said, “I like….” He paused. “Dancing with the flower girl?” I suggested. “No.” “Dancing with Cousin Carter?” I suggested. “No.”

Pause.

“I like…Cousin Rachel.” Because as much fun as he had that day, he knew it was really his godmother’s special day.