I love the living daylights out of her.

We waited a long time to see her walk.  It felt like we spent more time in doctors' offices than at the playground.  We've endured countless bad days and endless crying nights.  We feel stares from other people and continue to let go of too many big dreams.

We accept what we have been given, embrace the life we thought we weren’t strong enough to live.  And we know that there is always, always something to be thankful for.

Right now it's that she was sent another day.  And a beautiful new pink gown.

JEB, with big hugs to Rock Hill!

The hardest things

I worry, already, about the day this spot will look empty.  Tucker calls it “Cewie’s couch,” but she shares it with all of us.

I ask him, repeatedly, to share.  Although I feel like a fraud to insist on it.  I read an article recently (Growing Child, July) that said not to insist on it anyway, that children aren’t ready to share until close to age three.  The research suggests encouraging turn-taking, but not talking much beyond some semblance of fairness until later; the author explains that for the purpose of developing a sense of self, possessiveness is a necessary step.
It’s hard to share.  Even before I read that particular essay, because I espouse it and continually fail at it myself, I tried to cut him some slack.  Sharing is, perhaps, the hardest thing we ask young children, at such an early point in their short lives, to do -- to care more about others' feelings and wishes than their own.

The other day Tuck let an ant crawl around on his arm. He spoke to it: Hey little guy, what you doing? Where you going? You like my arm?  At one point the ant fell off, and Tucker, in his enthusiasm to get the ant back, accidentally squished him.  He apologized: Sorry little guy.
It crossed my mind at the time that I could take advantage of the opportunity to speak to Tuck about death, beyond simply: Sorry buddy, the ant is dead. It can’t crawl on your arm anymore.  I haven't found courage enough to research what experts say about talking to toddlers about dying.

This morning when he woke up, still snuggling in bed with his beez under his chin, Tuck said: Celie will not grow up and eat pizza.

I hate that, for him, the hardest thing might not be sharing.
JEB

Lift

I believe that children with aunts who adore them are infected with a potent sense of confidence.  Nieces and nephews learn the probability of error or failure is slight, are encouraged to chart their own paths, chase their own dreams.
I also believe that an aunt's love can serve as a powerful incentive to do good.  Children whose aunts make them feel like life is a very big thing, a thing really worth living well, grow an inclination to generosity greater than the temptation of acknowledgment or power.

JEB

the Doing

We've been keeping busy with the sun, and with a little boy who will not be two years old forever.  When posts are far between it might just mean our cast is living the next story, treasuring the doing more than the getting done.

Song For You

There was a time, last fall, when we thought the next time we'd hear Justin Roberts play might be at Celia's funeral.  Today he sang for her, and she was with us to enjoy it:
I will sing this song for you
Whether you are far or near
It'll whisper in your ear
It can't be stopped from breaking through...

A Dog and his Boy

Colby follows Tuck around like a, well, like a lost puppy, practically begging him to play fetch again, to chase him through the house in Nascar circles, squealing and tackling each other to the floor, to sneak him another dog "cookie."

But sometimes when Tuck is hugging Colby, or using him as a stool, or riding on his back telling him to "gallop," Colby shoots me a look like he’s being tortured and would I mind saving him?  Please?  Like THIS INSTANT!
I haven't the heart to tell Colby there's another little guy on the way.

JEB

Dressed

A few weeks ago I said something to Andy about how interesting it'd be to see what kind of outfits Celia, at age four, would be putting together.  I guessed she might be pairing plaid and polka dots, orange with pink, tights under bathing suits.  Andy used to hesitate a bit when it was his turn to bathe her, often asking whether the clothes he chose after her bath matched.  Now, though, he's confident, claiming that he likes to imagine what she might choose.

I like to listen to him talk to her as he gets her dressed, telling her he picked her blue "happiness" dress and some rainbow striped pants.  And I like to imagine that, regardless of her health or cognizance, she feels as beautiful as she is.
JEB

If you live in the area and don't have plans this Sunday, Grammy-nominated Justin Roberts will be performing a free concert at 4pm at the Maple Grove Church on the corner of High and Henderson.  It will be the fourth summer we've gone -- the first time Andy took Celia she danced and clapped... Justin has always been her favorite.  Have you seen his McDonald's "Apple Tree" commercial?