Good night

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This little boy crashed all of a sudden after tearing through the living room for the better part of the evening. He says a few words now: Mama, Dada, uh-oh, duck! Duck is his favorite. He knows which of his little wooden animals is the duck, but he also just likes to say the word over and over. It’s like a new superpower he’s tapped into. The power of duck.

He understands more than he says. He knows what we mean by pig, sit down, smooch, milk, and chew. He can point to his belly and his ear on request. He likes to dance and clap his hands. I think he’s starting to make animal noises like moo for cow and hoooo for owl, but I’m not sure it’s more than coincidence just yet.

When we ask him a “how much” question (how much does mommy love you? How much do you love ducks?), he raises his hands high in the air to show “soooo much!” When I ask him for certain books (The Big Hungry Bear, The Pout Pout Fish, Go Dog Go, …) he can find them in a pile.

He’s an excellent sidekick, a champion snuggler, a gifted dancer. He is funny and sweet and bashful around strangers at first.

He’s pretty fantastic, this little person of mine.

Start Your Wagons

The past couple of weeks have thrown me off of pretty much every wagon I was on. Weight Watchers, eating at home, exercise, reading, blogging, taking photos, writing…basically anything that required extra thought or time was moved to the back burner, which wasn’t even turned on.

Time to regroup.

Gym today. Homemade dinner tonight. Tracking my food. Reading before bed instead of binge-watching Murder, She Wrote (although, for the record, I neither regret nor feel ashamed of my love for J.B. Fletcher).

When you’re running around in crisis mode, it’s easy to lose your footing. I think it’s even ok, as long as you have a support system to help hold you up. But crisis mode has passed, and it’s time to take care of myself. Like Alice in Wonderland, I give myself very good advice – I need to make sure I’m following it.

The great ones

Comer

There is so much to say about Ed Comer, and I don’t know where to begin. I don’t think I’m ready yet. I can’t yet tell my favorite stories without getting choked up – but someday, I’ll be able to share with you about his strength, his kindness, his fairness, his quick wit, his sweet whistle.

My grandaddy passed away on Friday afternoon. He was one of the great ones, and I’m going to miss him so very much.


Song for Sid

Langhorne Slim

As the earth stood still, Sid began to move
I understood the words he said, he understood mine too
I watched Sid suffer, I saw Sid strong
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone

He told me it would be alright, go and have fun
He said he loved his family, but it was time to run
I loved that old man, I wrote him this song
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone

I’m so glad, I got to say goodbye
And when you run into Jack, Sidney, tell him I said hi
I loved that old man, pray he’s where he belongs
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone

I loved that old man, I wrote him this song
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone
Now tell me where do the great ones go when they’re gone

Don’t scare me!

World’s Scariest Baby, right here in my own living room! This is Henry’s latest trick – he’ll circle the room, giving everybody a good scare before letting out one LOUD, LONG scream for good measure.

I know it’s probably terrible to encourage him like this, but it’s also hilarious – plus, he ate an avocado with his dinner last night, so I think I’ve got some accrued mom karma to cash in on.

Hymn of Promise

image via

image via

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
In cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!
In the cold and snow of winter there’s a spring that waits to be,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

There’s a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
There’s a dawn in every darkness, bringing hope to you and me.
From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
In our doubt there is believing; in our life, eternity,
In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory,
Unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

My mom, my aunt, and I attended my great aunt’s funeral this afternoon. It was a truly beautiful service for a beautiful woman.

I grew up in the  Methodist church, and my favorite part of any service has always been the music.

Today, the reverend mentioned that my great Aunt Dot often turned to the hymnal as a devotional, and I can absolutely see why. So many hymns are written with such beauty, peace, and hope — the one quoted above, Hymn of Promise, is especially sweet. I had forgotten how much I love it until we sang it this afternoon.