Unputdownable

Road Trip, March 2008

Ever read a book that was so good you didn’t want to put it down? Sometimes, when I’m in the middle of a really good book, and sometimes even with a mediocre book, beds go unmade and meals go unprepared. I may have needed to sprinkle goldfish crackers on the floor once, to entertain my toddler so I could read just one more chapter… (They were whole wheat crackers, and the floor was clean. And I only did it once. It was a good book.) Sometimes books are just unputdownable. Sometimes kids are like that, too. They keep you from taking care of chores, because you let them. They distract you, allow you to escape to other worlds. Celia is better than the best good book. And sometimes when I'm holding her, I realize she has revealed many secrets and imparted much wisdom, even though it seems she's wordless, unopenable. Unopenable, maybe. Unputdownable, for sure.

JEB

Golden Days

A picnic. A breeze. A day at the beach. Our summer has not been.

These things denote ease. Our lives are not easy.

But, some days, things are okay. Occasionally, things are almost good. And once in a while, we have moments layered with treasures.

JEB

On the line

Hangin' Out

Laundry Day

Linebacker (My favorite)

Or how about just plain cute? Thanks for the great idea, Bridget.

Andy

Disclaimer: No babies were harmed during the photo shoot. No tongues, fingers, or lips were pinched either. Trust me... it was really safe.

Time Flies

It’s been five months. Five months, already. Yes, it's cliché, but... Where has the time gone?
I know where some of it has gone. It’s gone to peek-a-boo days and cuddle-up nights. To too many diaper changes to count. And too many picture-taking poses to count. To acquiring dimples, not so deep as to hold spare change, but dimples nonetheless. To stroller rides and rollings over. To dirtying miniature laundry and enduring kisses on miniature toes. To exploring whatever is within reach. To developing a repertoire of sounds, from squeals of delight to cries of frustration, and even, thrilling-beyond-words, an occasional "m" sound. To looking with dark eyes, eyes meant to see lots of great things, eyes that grow bigger over night. To nursing and nursing and nursing. To flashing milk-drunk grins. To lengthening, albeit gradually, soft tufts of dark hair, delicate filaments of spun sugar. To giggling at tickles on the smooth olive skin of a perfect little belly button. To changing the world.
Five months, well spent.
JEB

Little Friends

There's so much more to life than words.

Ellie & Celia, Iowa - 3.2008

A Message

from our favorite Ironman:

A little over one week has passed since the Ironman and I am starting to feel like myself again. I was incredibly honored to have raced on behalf of Celia Betz and thanks to all of you we raised $10,000 for the Care For Celia Fund and BDSRA.

The Ironman was a challenge that taught me some very valuable life lessons, some of those being perseverance, dedication and inner strength. Mostly the race reminded me that through love and support all of us can conquer the unimaginable. This quote by Lance Armstrong says it best, “That pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it subsides. And when it does, something else takes its place, and that thing might be called a greater space for happiness. We have unrealized capacities that only emerge in crisis - capacities for enduring, for living, for hoping, for caring, for enjoying. Each time we overcome pain, I believe that we grow.”

Even though my race is over I encourage everyone to continue to support Celia, the Betz Family and the Batten Disease Support and Research Association. Thank you again.

Mandy Burlile

Mandy spread Celia's story far and wide. Her capacity for caring is as big as her Ironman achievement. In our world, riddled with Batten Disease darkness, Mandy has been a light. Many of you reading supported Mandy, and our family, through her efforts. You lighten our heavy and brighten our way. Thank you.

J&A

Sunday

We went to church this morning. It'd been too long since we'd been there. It was Tucker's first time in the nursery. He didn't get a five star report, but they'll let him come back. Good thing he's cute.
I sat with Mom during worship. We don't spend much time just sitting next to each other. She had time to study my toes, and told me she remembered when she could fit all of them in her mouth. Baby toes are so yummy. She asked if I'd had my wedding rings cleaned recently. I had, mostly because I developed a pregnancy related allergy again this time, and a fresh rhodium coating cures the rawness. But I also explained that I've noticed, on numerous occasions, that my rings just look prettier in church. The diamonds are more dazzling and the platinum gleams most radiantly there. I guess that just makes sense though, that a symbol of our marriage sparkles more in the Lord's house, where the reflection of his love makes everything, and everyone, shine.
I won't get to lean over and tell Celia that I remember when her toes were tiny and tasty. I won't get to pass down Grandma Eleanor's ring to her, for a fourth generation to wear. Those things make me sad. Lots of things make me sad lately. It's been a tough week, for a variety of reasons. Celia needed more medicine than she has before, crying for nearly 36 hours straight. Several opportunities to see other children play, in the way that all children should play, made me wish I could cry for 36 hours or so myself.
Whether I'm in church or not, I realize the darkness, or the light, will fall on me - on my toes and my rings and my heart - and it will wrap around me, depending on where I choose to sit. I'm reaching for the light.

JEB