messmaker(s)

messmaker, messmaker
make me a mess...

leaving room for wonder

On the way into church over the weekend, the boys paused in the parking lot to inspect an insect.  Tuck declared his unsureness over what, exactly, it was.  Tols chimed in to say that was okay, because God doesn't want us to know everything.  He wants there to be mysteries for us to think about.  

I believe he's right.  I am not interested in anything too rigid, in anything that does not leave room for doubt.  There's lots more room for others, for the whole wide world, when we declare an I don't know, when we admit that we're not sure what we think about something, when we allow ourselves to wonder.

just being

I may have lost some of my social graces when we lost Celia.  I say no a lot.
I have developed some opinions about being over-scheduled, about the disease of doing too much.
We stay busy enough, but we don't sign up for stuff we don't really want to spend our time doing.

I hear people play checkers with their schedules, like one of them has to win.
Being busy is not a badge of honor, and exhaustion is not a status symbol.
I want our boys to know who they are without activity as a metric of their worth.

Just this week Tuck built a desk caddy and Tollie made a football field out of Legos.  They read books and played ball with the baby, tinkered on the piano and created blueprints of a very spooky amusement park.  Tucker sketched a pattern for his Halloween costume, captured a praying mantis, and learned about long division.  Tolliver mixed paint to make new colors and put together, through lots of trial and error, a pretty fancy Hot Wheels track.

And I went to a fundraiser.  I almost cried trying to tell a famous Hollywood producer about my girl, the one with red coils springing from her head like cursive, clearly spelling love.
Lots of Batten literature explains that affected children lose their childhood.  We don't want her brothers to lose theirs too.
Her illness gave us a far surer sense of what's worth our time, and often that means we're huddling close, just being.

Join us at The Hills, Worthington for happy hour this week, to benefit BDSRA.
Or don't.  It's your time, and you're always allowed to say no.

Also, I ran across something I wrote several years ago, before a happy hour that benefitted hospice.  Click the link if you have time to read more:
her hair, his heart

I love getting to say Yes to him.

Mom, if we poke holes in the lid and give it some bugs to eat, can we keep this praying mantis till tomorrow?

Mom, can I take a treat in my lunch box today?  Maybe some Raisinets?

Mom, do you think you'd have time to get some new books from the library soon?

Mom, can me and Tollie stay outside for a bit after school?

Mom, I got my homework done and I practiced the piano.  May I have some screen time now?

Mom, can you make a math equation with a square root?  Like the square root of twenty five plus five is ten?

Mom, wanna hear some knock-knock jokes while you cook dinner?

Mom, could you scratch my back for me for a few minutes?

from the phone

1.  making rainbows jealous
2.  wild things at the #columbuszoo
3.  when challenging and rewarding go hand in hand
4.  outdoor living room
5.  simmering in sunshine
6.  banana splits for breakfast

7.  spoiled baby

8.  making waves

9.  sit down paddle

10.  stealing drinks

11.  #ohiowa forever

12.  vacaysh

13.  big sistering like a pro

14.  sunsets in the state up north

15.  pool boys

16.  worshipping the water

17.  all the instruments (plus the martini shaker calling...)

18.  just one rib #jazzandribfest

19.  trying to get all three in the frame #gobucks

20.  shaving foam street fight #mulfordblockparty

21.  floating Lego boats

22.  first day, second grade

23.  warm afternoons, chubby thighs

24.  five months, and smile that consumes his face

25.  sunset on the cape, colors without names

26.  #allieverwanzered wedding 

27.  popponesset spit #sunsout

28.  boston commons

29.  on the move

30.  meditation all around

31.  baby toes for president
32.  more #poolboys
33.  artifacts attached to memories
34.  first tailgate #loyalaf
35.  goodbye bear
36.  feelings bordering on the evangelical

37.  #driller (the ball game, and the "what part of speech is catch?" inquisition)
38.  whole heart inside a small square
39.  first swing
40.  praying to remember
41.  good thing we got created with two hands, an eating hand and a picking hand
42.  buying mums #fallelujah

ready for the world

It would take all day and a calculator to count the freckles on his face.
A small city could probably be powered off his natural reserves of enthusiasm.  He reminds me of a puppy, all Okay, what are we doing, where are we going, I'm in.
He is such a good boy, even better than he knows.

He began pre-K classes recently.  He is beyond ready to be in the world.
We still have plenty of time for our own what ifs and why nots together, but some days, instead of snacking on kale chips and boredom, he gets to leave home and learn.
I am so proud of him, and so excited for him.  And I love him so much.

Thomas, James and Charles

I took the boys for flu vaccines this afternoon.  They did not flinch.
Not when the nurse called their names in the waiting room, and not as they were given the shots.

It reminded me that we ought to talk about their real names every once in awhile, especially so as to avoid another airport TSA incident similar to the one on our way to Sedona last year.