Friday, December 24, 2010

My Beloved Mine, I His.





Robb Williford
August 27, 1975 - December 23, 2010
He died in my arms, and I will hold him forever.
There are no words for an ache this deep.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Planting Seeds of Brass




video

Look out, brass section. We've got one coming your way.

Vessel

The ideas don't come from you.
The songs don't come from you.
The creativity doesn't come from you.
The leadership doesn't come from you.
They just come through you.
~ Louie Giglio

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Foul Language

The boys have discovered the words 'butthead' and 'butthole.' They love the sound, timbre, and texture of these words. Can't get enough.

I do not love these words. Yes, it's likely I won't succeed in making them say benign words like 'bottom' and 'toot' their whole lives through, but when does one choose to lift the gate on the various levels of propriety?

I have administered warnings, disciplines, nags, and consequences to varying magnitudes. No help. Constantly, I'm hearing from another room, "Hey, Mommy! He said ____________ again!"

Finally, in exasperation, I looked at my mom and said, "Oh, what on earth am I to do with this?!"

In her wisdom, she said, "Well, I'd only punish it if you hear it with your own ears. If they're at the dinner table or running around the kitchen while you're fixing dinner, and they're shouting these words constantly, then tell them it's not okay. But that's different from the two of tem holding this power over each other in the other room, constantly tattling."

So true.

"And Tricia, you might as well know they're going to learn those words anyway. They're going to learn them, and they're going to say them. Heavens, you and your brother STILL say things I wish you wouldn't. And there are years of late night discussions in bunkbeds ahead of you, and you just won't be able to monitor everything that happens there. And much will happen there."

So true.

"And Tricia, I hope to hear about it when your boys are men, taller than you, and Tyler says with that little grin, 'Hey, Tuck, watch this: Mom? Butthole.' Because that will happen."

So true.

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Stuck.

Tuck found himself wedged between the shoekeeper and the wall at McDonald's.
I wish I could tell you he was retrieving a shoe,
but really he just climbed the thing like playground equipment,
slid down the other side,
and found himself swallowed whole.
And then we got the giggles, him and me,
trying to heave him without leverage.
It was no small task.

video

Maybe some moms just go to McDonald's.

Monday, December 13, 2010

Starbucks for Four










Starbucks for Four
+
Christmas Playlist
+
Comfy blankets in the car
+
Christmas Lights all over town
+
"Look, Mommy! Look!"
=
A Tradition Worth Repeating

Latrines

"Tyler, please get off your brother."
"I was just pretending he was a toilet."
(It never ends around here.)

Thursday, December 9, 2010

The Prince and the Pea

"Tyler, we forgot to choose something for Show and Tell at preschool. Want me to grab Doc before we go?"

He was already buckled in his carseat, or I would have sent him into snag it on his own.

(Incidentally, I referred to his carseat as his suitcase today. As in, "Everybody get in your suitcases." Ah, well. Blank stares.)

"Mommy, how about if you go get Lightning McQueen. He's under my pillow."

"Under your pillow?"

"Yep."

I buzzed into his room, on my one final errand before we trekked off to preschool. I lifted his pillow, and not only did I find Lightning McQueen, but 9 other toys, too.

Little Hoarder. Stocking up for a rainy day. Or a boring quiet time.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Overwhelming Truth

As Tyler helped Grandma set up the nativity at her house, he shoved everyone into the stable. Shepherds, sheep, wise men, the donkey - and even the camels stuck their heads in.

"Everybody wants to be close to Jesus, Grandma. They all like him."

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Happy Endings

We recorded The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and now it's a daily routine at our house. Sometimes multiple times each day, when the boys get their way.

Tyler has recently been calling him "The Junk."

Tonight, as we watched the Grinch and his antlered pup, Max, we sang Dahoo-Dooray with all the Whos down in Whoville as they awoke on Christmas morning.

Embracing a teachable moment, I said, "Tuck, look how happy they are, even though they don't have any of their presents. Why do you think they're so happy?"

Without breaking eye contact from the screen, he said, "Because they know he'll change his mind in a few minutes."

Excellent. So, lesson learned, then.