trying

Here we are. It's December. Just trying to delight in the season. 

Honoring, mostly, traditions that work for us, rather than those that require work.

Enjoying the first snow, and navigating the frigid air and the inevitable muddy melt.

Admiring the repeated chord progression, the same measures over and over, like the "roof ball" sliding across the shingles in some consistent attempt to master a trick, the again and againness -- learning to love these noises the best, the optimistic sound of someone's repeated trying.

fourteen

Dear Tolliver,

You are suddenly less wild hair and strong opinions, more refined taste, bright but withholding, the king of nonchalance. You could, as they say, charm the rats off a cheesecake. Still, you know we will not spend $42 on the tiniest tube of hair pomade. But we will often accommodate a request for third dinner. You've leveled up on ramen, switching brands and adding garnishes, making something almost gourmet. You are growing in so many ways.

You have mostly aged out of your leap and lunge atmosphere, no longer so much like a large playful dog. You are still every young person's absolute favorite pal. You are not entirely focused on a ball rising into the air and falling toward a glove, but baseball is a very big part of your world. Your dad and I are proud of your effort in school, though even more pleased by the size of your heart, nevermind no one is collecting data on that. 

You know where your water bottle is and what size cleats you wear and which homework assignment is due next Tuesday. Your chair is never on all fours. But you do linger at the table longer, adding humor and curiosity to grown up conversation, open to pleasure and connection. You have an appetite like a wood chipper. Every time you feel alive you're being shown your vitamins. I think for you that might mean fresh air and dirt. You are like a spectacular sunrise, slides and shorts and a cozy new sweatshirt, the sky graduating from navy to flame.

I look back at baby pictures and can see your exact essence now in a way I was only just discovering then, so much embedded in your tiny features. I used to be the world's premiere expert on you, but you are your own expert now. I love you as shortstop and Sully and as a rising star, and I'm desperate to know every future version of you. While it is both a challenge and a joy, it is also an immense privilege, steering one of the people I love most in this world right out of my orbit. 

Happy birthday, bruh.

Mom

more than meets the I-O

Another week, and all the emotional cliff-diving that comes with dreaming big and raising boys.

Trampoline repairs and marimba deliveries, musical auditions and making periodic tables with Ramen noodles, building strength of mind, building strength of heart. The yarn store and the youth retreat and the food pantry and so much more that may not get documented here, books consumed in stacks, like by boa constrictors, and skies the color of a candy necklace... simply noting some of it.

Radium Girls

"Radium Girls" were female factory workers in the early 20th century who painted luminous watch dials with radium-based paint. The girls were instructed to sharpen the paintbrushes with their lips, causing them to ingest lethal doses of radium, which led to health problems like bone cancer and jaw necrosis. The women's courage in taking on their employers in court led to significant legal victories that paved the way for modern workplace safety regulations.

The GHHS cast of Radium Girls shined a bright light on ambition, progress and the hidden costs of chasing success. Both historically accurate and tragic, the students' portrayal of the fight for justice and fair compensation was thought-provoking and inspiring. As one friend aptly pointed out, Tucker is never not not nice in real life but played a perfectly cold, smug company legal counsel, not quite blatantly malicious but certainly unyielding.