that camera makes your face look big

B: "You need to watch this Slinky bounce. This is a very important bounce."

*****

X (friend who shall remain anonymous): "Like you, I'm a psycho bitch on birth control."
A: "I don't think I used those exact words. But I'm putting that on my blog.*"

*This is becoming a more and more effective threat.

*****

B: "So, when snow falls from the sky and crashes into your head, you die."
A: "No, that is not an avalanche."
B: "When snow falls off the roof and crashes into you, you die."
A: "No, that is not an avalanche. I will try to find something that will help you understand, but it's hard for me, okay? It makes me sad sometimes."
B: "Mom? I don't want my other dad that is Rob to die."
A: "I don't want that either."
B (decisively): "We both don't want my other dad to die."
A (sadly): "No. We don't."

Blake is getting more and more expressive about being sad about his dad that died and wanting to figure out how snow, which is soft and fun to play in, might be able to hurt someone... namely his dad that is Blake. I'm not sure if he's ready to watch the movie, other than simply for some fun footage of his dad, because there's not an actual avalanche shown. At least, I don't think there is. It's been a while since I've seen it, and I usually watch it through tears, so it's not high on my "Watch on a Friday night" list.

He'll often be pensive and quiet (usually when he knows I'm speaking about him in a frustrated tone or asking him to do something he doesn't want to do), then tell me that he's just frustrated/sad/upset about his dad that died.

I think he's being mostly manipulative, so I resist the urge to switch directions. And sometimes, he's not being manipulative. Like the spontaneous conversation above. I had told him that Daddy Blake died when he was skiing on a really steep hill and snow crashed into him... but I told him that weeks ago. His thoughts just percolate and tumble about until something devastatingly funny or just devastating spills out.

I'm not sure how to navigate HIS grief. My own has changed so much (though it is still something I'll always carry with me) that thinking in terms of "four-year-old who never knew his first father and is about to gain a second" is bewildering. Please pray that God would give me words and grace for the hard conversations... that Blake would not avoid talking about something that might make me cry... that I would be brave and honest about how hard it's been to be alone in the world with him, and how wonderful he makes my life at the same time.

*****

Finally, I'm being interviewed on Monday for a show on the Weather Channel about specific weather events and how they impact people's lives. They are flying in to Bozeman and interviewing me, Sam, Matt, and possibly Jason, if they can find him. He's elusive, I guess. While my mother is more protective of my heart than I am, I am more protective of big Blake's legacy than most anyone else (excepting maybe his immediate family). I agreed to talk to them, but I still have time to change my mind about being on camera.

As much as I want big Blake's life to matter and to continue to make an impact, I've been pretty comfortable letting Sam be the "face" of this story. I love to reminisce about the tall, athletic, ornery, unexpectedly funny, quiet man that I married. I don't want to cry on national television. I love to tell stories that make me laugh, and big B gave me plenty. I don't want to make Rob uncomfortable in any way.

And no matter how strong, patient, engaging, or whatever other word you might use to describe me (do you like how I picked nice ones that aren't always true?!), one of the biggest reasons I don't want to be on TV is because I don't want to look fat or awkward.

Vanity, thy name is Addie, always and forever, amen.