How Times Change

In less than an hour, we'll be leaving for our third Jonas Brothers concert, and Tori is upstairs watching Harry Potter.

This is exactly why, in February of 2008, I spent $353 on two Jonas Brothers tickets. They were a twelfth birthday present and, as I wrote then, I suspected that her days of wonder were nearly over. A year and a half later, I'm not so sure that those days ever end--at least, not for everyone. But each wonder-inspiring moment, I think, has a small window.

Once upon a time, my daughter said in wonder, "You took me to the BEACH?" Once, Don Lee's Wild West Town was an adventure for her. Once, she was delighted to spend her day throwing worn wooden balls in the skeeball room at Indiana beach with me, and I was exactly the person she wanted to have water balloon fights with and chase down the water slide. And once, she was so excited at the prospect of seeing the Jonas Brothers live that she screamed and stomped her feet and danced in circles. And, of course, called her friends to announce, "OMG MMR!"

Once I spent my lunch hour ironing "I love Nick Jonas" onto a red t-shirt because she'd realized that she had no appropriate attire for the concert, and she spent the days leading up to the show covering the living room floor entirely in Jonas Brothers pictures. Today, she's wearing pink shorts with a white t-shirt, black tights and hightops, and watching a Harry Potter movie for the dozenth time. Nonchalant, detached, strangely dressed...like a teenager.

And I, of course, am not dying to see the Jonas Brothers for the third time. But it's all good, because thus far there's always some new object of wonder around the corner.