*lyrics from Disney's Brave
Posted by Andy and Jenni at 9:24 PM
birthday cheesecake #swiper
River City Leather #galliafirst
frozen fractals all around
powering through two courses #notenoughcoffee
nut butter for grandpa
OSU vet school open house #insideahorse
brown Es (and brownies) #aprilfirst
at the GHPL
at Local Cantina
five year old artwork is the best
sun on his shoulders
playgrounds wear me out, too
baby Jacob in the grass
post nap snuggle
a good reminder to do more good
sidewalk chalk and rainbow footprints
Posted by Andy and Jenni at 11:00 PM
Andy sat down to dinner one night last week with ace bandages wrapped around both knees. Tolliver had been taking care of him. As soon an he walked in the door, Tollie asked for his badge and stethoscope and got to work.
There are two small, clear medicine cups in the boys' medical kit. After he hands Andy one, Tols always takes the other one for himself and says Doctor need medicine, too.
Tollie wasn't around when the house was full of caregivers, of women who weighed Celia and took her temperature, he did not see us work around the clock to crush pills and measure medicine. Now there are empty vials and syringes on the coffee table and compression wraps snaking across the hardwood, but they're all just for play.
There were a few times that Celia got very sick and recovered, but we knew all along she would run out of rallies. Tollie wasn't around for much of that. This afternoon though, loading rocks into his dump truck outside, and out of nowhere, he asked Andy what happened to Celia's body. We try never to speak in euphemisms, don’t step around words like dead. Even at two Tollie seems able to sift linguistic grain from chaff, and so we try to share simple truths, help him grip the hard, unfair concept that some things leave us without our permission. People die, we tell him, and their bodies decompose. It's the way of things.
Uncertainty is uncomfortable and missing a sibling hurts. It's no fun not to feel good, but moving forward through the clumsiness and the aching is important. We acknowledge Tollie's curiosity and his concern, and remind him that his body is healthy, that his lifetime may be long. I know, he says, a smile of understanding crossing his face, I eat carrots, I grow big!
Above, from last fall, but new to the blog. We were trying to compare Tols to Poppy at this age(ish) in the late 40s, below.
Posted by Andy and Jenni at 10:45 PM
They are as different as January and July.
I have them, and they have each other.
Tucker, who fancies himself a gymnast, was tumbling and twirling and teetering on top of the couch while Tolliver and I watched. Tollie started to giggle and said: That looks awesomesauce, Bro. And that made Tucker collapse into hysterics. The two of them laughed at each other and with each other, and that almost made me cry.
Together they are a delight to watch. And a near impossibility to photograph.
And they are both so, so loved.
Posted by Andy and Jenni at 10:22 PM
I slithered into bed benext to him, stomach down, chapter book in hand, ready to read fast. After a few pages he put his palm on my shoulder and gave a quick rub, leaned in to kiss my shoulder. I kept reading, slowing the words and savoring the closeness. Most nights I feel rather depleted, very tired and totally touched out, but tonight I became completely aware of the fact that I may never be this loved. Endurance is an invisible enterprise, motherhood a rather thankless charge. Save for, this evening, a small hand on my shoulder that felt a lot like acupressure for my soul.
Posted by Andy and Jenni at 10:01 PM