He does love to help in the kitchen.

Tolliver is intense.
Which is to say, if you were thinking this blog was like a book where characters evolve rapidly and plots move forward with surprising twists, sorry to break the news.
Spending time with Tols is a bit like playing a slot machine. He is someone who is given something good and receives it as either perfect or horribly insulting. Either he is having the best day ever or the worst day ever. Everything is epic, everything is off, everything is boring, he’s already done everything, why do we do everything without him?
His region of delight is the size of the head of a pin.
Thrown into this disorienting arena with him, I try to understand that his world can feel incredibly small or incredibly large, and nothing is really stable, logical, or obvious.
Tollie is actually, sometimes, the most competent person in the house. Other times he is a puddle.
He is enraged by his brothers, red capes dangling in front of bull. He is also enraged by socks that won't quite go on right and by all sixteen meal options offered and by a request to brush his teeth.
Daily life with him can be turbulent. But he is not often mean-spirited or mindless, even when he's stormy. He just has big feelings and strong opinions.
And he is actually, often, full of so much joy. I mean, he is the kind of kid whose relentless joie de vivre requires a lot of energy from one mere mother. Maybe I could loan him out?


rht said...

I need Tolliver to come back here and play "Go Fish" or work on a puzzle with me... or we could cook!

Poppy John said...

Jenni Baby,

You may be too close to this situation. Send Tolliver to West Virginia for a couple of weeks. We can make any personality trait adjustments you may require by utilizing "positive reinforcement techniques" while using Grandma Sandy's french fries as rewards. Easy peezy!