Lakeshore listened.

Tucker received a set of wooden Lakeshore Store Doors from Santa.  He set to work building a shopping center using blocks and street signs and then made his Lakeshore Block Play People act as customers.  He's been partial to the little girl in the wheelchair for a few years now and seemed a little disappointed that she didn't fit through the Toy Store door.  Andy quickly redirected him, and they built an alternate entrance with a wheelchair ramp.  But his short-lived frustration prompted me to write a quick note to Lakeshore Learning Materials to let them know about what we'd discovered.
Less than a week ago I sent that note, a simple suggestion to their customer service department, and today we were on the phone with someone in California who said the president had met with the research and development team and wider store doors were already in the manufacturing process. 

JEB

Monday's Child

Mondays don't mean anything around here. We don't spend Sunday evenings preparing for the week, packing lunches, comparing calendars.  Most of the time we don't even know what day of the week it is, the distinction between weekend and weekday modest at best.  We have things to look forward to and things to worry about, and we work hard to embrace each day as unconditionally as we embrace the children.  Full of a little magic and a little more mayhem, while this Monday will never stand out against the rest it was pleasantly spent.

JEB
Tollie was born on a Monday, and he is rather fair of face, yes?

Babies must be the best learning machines in the universe.

He doesn’t have time-sensitive responsibilities, his inclinations driven purely by curiosity and spontaneity.  He practices animal sounds, fills and empties containers, brushes his teeth and talks on the phone and scoots down the stairs and scribbles on paper.

I appreciate the way he makes decisions based primarily on each moment's emotion and am glad he's helped me adjust my interpretation of productivity.

JEB

Self Time

We read parts of a parenting book a couple years ago that described the way young children spiral through periods of equilibrium.  When Tuck's behavior seems atypical - he's intense and disruptive and everything feels difficult - we try to remind each other that he's just working through a little disequilibrium, that sure as sunset these developmental quirks won't last forever.
Lately it's been interesting to watch Tucker realize that he's struggling, and to observe his strategies to regain balance.  After a particularly frustrating episode a few days ago, before we even had time to think about how we should respond to his behavior, Tuck said, "I'm just going to take some self time now in case you're not enjoying me."

JEB

Be gentle.

I feel like I say it a hundred times a day.
That ornament is very fragile, please be gentle.  
The leaves of this plant are delicate so you'll need to touch it gently.  
Be gentle with your brother. 
I'm not sure whether the boys hear me, but I kind of hope the calendar and the clock and the universe are listening.

Be gentle, 2013.  Please.
JEB

Fire and Ice

The landscape changes with snow -- shrubs become unrecognizable blobs, mattresses pile up on roofs and waist high wedges are left plowed beside parked cars.  The ground level rises and the thickness of tree branches doubles and everything familiar is changed.  I try not to see it as a bad metaphor, that everything familiar is changed.
In literature, winter is sometimes used to represent death.  It is bitter and numbing and isolating.  But snow brings fresh white space and beauty and romance and happiness, too.

While two little boys found lots of happiness outside this afternoon, inside tonight a fire burns behind the grate, humming and hissing against the quiet.  The holiday season tends to weight fire with a hefty expressive value -- slender candle flames become strong symbols of illumination while dim sanctuaries and living room hearths draw attention to hope and renewal.

There's a new year heading our way.  All the fresh white space and all the bright flames seem to be pointing to the future.  And I am pretty tempted to see those as fine metaphors.

JEB

Christmas