more moments of science

A hot cup of coffee in hand, I'm simultaneously waking up and surveying our good fortune. I mean, I didn't sleep at all last night and I'm not really ready to discuss the Big Crunch Theory. But it's okay to feel both extraordinarily grateful and admit I'm exhausted? And also admit I have no idea what Tuck's talking about?

I hear Andy's voice from one room over, where he's cooking breakfast for the child who actually does sleep, calling for him to come eat. Tuck wonders how old the universe might be and together they sing the ascending notes of the day. They start with the Big Bang and visit the idea of Hubble's Constant and decide that the age of the universe might always be open to question.

On Friday, Tolliver's name was drawn from the classroom beaker, so he got to be the helper scientist during the kindergarten class baking soda experiment. He knew exactly what would happen when he added the vinegar!

The boys have been collecting various materials to create bugs - Q-tips and foil and straws and bottle caps.
And they recently pored over an article outlining the praying mantises' ability to feed on hummingbirds, incredulous at the insect's scant regard for food chain decorum.

Although Hank is not yet quite as scientifically advanced as his older brothers, he is pretty much the best gravity checker around. Entered as evidence: Andy had to glue Hank's cheek shut last week, after a serious trip and tumble episode.

Neighbors with older sons sent a text yesterday, telling us there was a big box of books on their porch for their "favorite non-fiction readers." Tucker was so mad that we made him go to bed before he could read them all.

Today the boys went on a water walk with cousins and grandparents, and came home with pet worms and mollusks and crawdads.
Tonight, I'm still surveying our good fortune. And I'm still tired, but I'm drinking bourbon now. And basking in the silence.

Good boys grow here.

little letters

Dear boys,
I'm sorry we've been spending so much time at our computers. And at the tile shop.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: we love you so much.

Dear apple cake,
All I can say is WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE?

Dear naps,
I'm sorry I was a jerk to you as a kid.

Dear fall,
Thank you for making Ohio look like a dream.

Dear Andy,
Have I told you lately how much I love you?

Dear walks at the Park of Roses,
Thank you for keeping me sane. I like to cry happy and then sad and then happy again tears. And to look at the trees and the leaves. You're always one of the best parts of my day.

Dear Mom and Rod,
I'm sorry we've commandeered your entire dining room table. And your driveway. And your washing machine. You guys are way too good to us.

Dear coffee,
I love you. That is all.

carefully taught

My fingers have spent a decade hitting publish here. And also a fair amount of time hovering over delete.

Sometimes I struggle desperately to find a way to say something hard and make it come out soft. 

I mentioned to a friend recently that I wish I had the courage to write more, to say more.  

Her response was on point : It's hard to feel brave in a world where someone might shoot you for having an opinion.

I'm not really afraid of being shot. But I am afraid for the people who are.

These days, I live in fear mostly because my children have none. 

They are the boys jumping on the roof of the bounce house. 

I want our boys to follow rules and to break rules, to have opinions and to seek advice. 

I hope that as they grow taller they do not grow smaller, that they gain experiences and perspectives and increased preferences and confidence, but not so much that it makes them too cynical to listen to others. 

I don't want them to pick fights. I do want them to pick flowers.

I am not afraid of being shot, but I am afraid our country is being led by a lunatic. 

I am not afraid to stand up in support of same sex marriage, but I am afraid I might sometimes accidentally think I'm thinking when instead I'm just rearranging my prejudices.  

I am not afraid to eat pizza rolls and ignore gender roles, but I am afraid I might inadvertently kick the next person I run across who is small-minded and proud of it.

I am not afraid to share that I am firmly pro choice, but I am afraid I am not always a good example for my children.

We can always, all of us, do a little better in our interactions with people who are different from us, can't we?

I want our boys to believe in God or in good, to take actions based on grace. 

I want them to filter coffee, not people. 

The boys are inherently fair, and they are learning that when we take time to talk to strangers they don't seem so strange.

I want them to be brave, to declare opposition and to take bold steps, but to always, always remember person over point.

some of the best seconds, summer 2017

a moment of science

You know their necks can rotate 180 degrees?!
They're actually carnivores. They eat crickets and stuff.
The females decapitate the males after they mate!
I remember they're related to cockroaches. And termites.
Also, they only have one ear.  On their belly.  
I forget why they pray though?

chiseling happiness

There are a LOT of things I admire about this kid.
Lately it's the way he consistently chisels happiness out of pretty much any sort of rough-edged circumstance.