Weathering

Weathering the emotional aridity of the married-with-small-children desert may be difficult for any couple, and is likely complicated by disease.
But September smiled on us today.

And this evening the forecast says fancy with a chance for late dinner adult time.
JEB

Dump Tuck, II

We tend to measure mornings by the length of afternoon naptime that ensues.

Given three hours, we'd like to declare supervising heavy machinery a resounding success.

JEB
Original Dump Tuck here.

Overheard

Tucker:  Grandpa Rod came back (from Florida) just like Mama always comes back.
Andy:  Someday Celia will go away and won’t come back.
T:  Where is she going?
A:  Heaven.
T:  What's that? Are there playgrounds?  She will swing on the swings and slide on the slides.
A:  Yes, she will. And Colby will be there with her soon too.
T:  Maybe go see her?

Our mornings are fairly routine, but on this day, since Celia was awake when Tuck got up, he wanted her "all the way downstairs on the red couch with me."  He arranged pillows and covered her up, crawled under the quilt with her and requested The Fox and the Hound.
JEB

Kitchen Aide

Save Her

She rests like she means it, purring occasionally, noise like a distant tractor engine.  Her rest is very different from the unrest I get hung up in.  My attention spans out in slender threads, my interest distracted by the tiniest of vibrations.  

Sitting with her, I am able to gather the momentum of my own thoughts, to reign in now without a thought to next.  I lower myself by the fine silk of focus, back into the present.  She helps me find slow in the midst of fast, hear quiet in the noise.
Seconds pile on top of each other, like quilts, resting gentle in my mind.  I breathe deep, put everything away, save one.  Her.
JEB

Bigger

I often feel like there's a tightrope stretched between brilliance and insanity.  Some days we teeter toward the wrong side, the place where her illness screams in the silence and my own throat is sore from the effort of not yelling back.
We've felt our way through a full-spectrum, situations in which we've discovered the biggest sorrows and the purest joys.  These experiences have given our lives shape and depth, grown us into things wise and wonderful.  Most of all, though, our hearts have been trained to look for bright sides.  It can be exhausting prospecting for joy, even when you’re certain it’s there to be found.  It's work, but with rewards.  Drilling down through moments proves it, every time.  For us, the camera and the keyboard guide perspective and glorify truth.  And the truth is, brilliance is bigger.

JEB

Gets to Go

There is none of the stale “I can’t believe my baby is going to school.”  None of that, which I find particularly irritating and only slightly relatable.  There's just pride and gratitude.  Our little boy is growing, and gets to go to school.  There is certainly some anxiety mingled with the delight, and a lot of please take care of him whispering in my wake.  But mainly there is gratefulness.

He took a bite of apple before he could share it with his teacher.  Oops.
JEB