Tree

Tollie helped choose the tree, and Tuck helped decorate it.
When the artistic director is three years old, the results may be a little hard on the eyes and heavy at the bottom.  But they sure are warm in the heart.
JEB

Life feels merry.

Andy told me last week, after the Michigan game, that he sat, high above the fifty yard line, and shed a few tears.  Not because he was sad; actually quite the opposite.  He went on to explain that his happiness seemed to trigger some guilt, the fact that he could care about football again felt callous.  We've come to expect grief to turn an ordinary moment into a gut-wrenching memory or to twist joy into anxiety. 

The past few weeks have been full of happy celebrations.  Thanksgiving led to a Buckeye victory and on to Tolliver's first birthday, and December has already seen tree shopping, a church pageant and a charity ball.  Things feel very merry.  Until suddenly they don't.  When we least expect it, something like fried chicken or hand-me-downs or the cereal aisle at the grocery store brings a wave of sorrow.  Certain things seem to scream she's gone and make us wonder whether we're having too much fun without her.

At the end of the gift of another great weekend, I want to wrap it up.  Partly for myself, in a saving-forever wistfulness, but more to give it away, a big bow on top, for somebody else.  Because I know there are people who wish for this, for a simple normal, for a typical average.  We were those people, and those feelings were especially strong during times of celebration, during holidays full of tradition.  The idea of giving some of our happiness away lessens a bit of the guilt for feeling so much of it lately.
JEB

Morning, Clothes

I read an article, awhile ago now, that touched on the power of positive clothes.  The essay quoted Australian fashion designer Peter Morrisey's father, who used to say to him, "It's time to get up and get dressed to go dreaming."
There are mornings when Tuck chooses to stay in his jammies through breakfast, and sometimes even through lunch.  And there are other days when, as soon as his feet hit the floor, he's ready to pick out morning clothes, as he calls them.  Most days, whether he begins the dressing process at 7am or at noon, he wears at least three outfits.  Yet most days, if you dropped by unannounced, you'd likely find him in nothing but his andies.  Well, his undies and few accessories -- he often borrows a necklace or grabs his sunglasses or chooses a hat.

He tried to button his own shirt.

While I tend to think more about the day's forecast and reach for whatever's fresh from the dryer, Tuck's outfit selection strategy results in some pretty fantastic ensembles.
I hope all the dreams he's dressing for become realities.

 JEB

I could gobble him up.

Dear Tolliver,

It was about this time, exactly a year ago, that you were born, and meeting you felt kind of like meeting the rest of my life.  A little on the cold side of perfect, the day was crisp as a new dollar bill, spotless and full of possibility.  Just like you. 

When you arrived I was humbled, and equally awed, to be holding a healthy bundle of baby.  I positioned the sweet, swaddled shape of you in the crook of my elbow.  I marveled at your bigness and your smallness, at your perfection and your potential.  I felt a certain muddled wondrousness.  I still do. 

Now you’re like a tiny despot, using dynamite to declare your desires.  When I pry something, say an electronic device or a choking hazard, from your insistent fist, your will flares up like a fever.  And I have to be honest, I love that you're passionate, but I'm not always thrilled to see strong feelings flicker across your features.  You travel at roughly the speed of light, only faster, and you play until exhaustion overpowers your urge to protest bedtime.  Once you're asleep, I find myself missing the drool on your chin and your smooth pink cheeks, your swayed back and round belly, the way your eyes shut in a smile.

With your arrival, Tollie, the miracle of life re-illuminated my universe.  Thanks for bringing sunshine and fireworks to all my days, bright boy.
Love,
Mama

One

His birth brought us fresh awareness of the fragility of life, reminded us of the one breath difference between here and not.  Not that we needed any reminders.  It’s been a hard year.  Even the hardest parts of it, though, were still so much easier than they might have been without him here.

JEB

12 and OH

And (almost) one!

There's been a lot of celebrating in central Ohio this weekend, but the best part, for us, has been celebrating Tolliver's first birthday. The most recent Buckeye victory was just a bonus.

#thankful