Tony Woodlief | Author

Snapshots of Life

Warm

This morning I woke to a Johnny Cash mood. I slipped into my black slacks and fitted white shirt, eased on my uber-trendy polished black shoes, shrugged into my black leather jacket, popped some sleek black sunnies on my face, and strolled out to my truck. I fired the engine and pushed in my Folsom …

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Wistful cowboy

Wistful cowboy Isaac is three as of last Friday. I took him to lunch and then to work, which promptly became “work,” where he crawled under my desk and generally charmed and pestered everyone in earshot. Then it was back home for special Mom-and-Isaac time (they made sugar cookies) while I took his older brothers …

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Quiet

I am washing dishes when Eli sidles up next to me. He is a gentle presence, watching. Sometimes when he wants to talk you have to help him get his words started. “Where’s Isaac?” I ask, not because I think he wants to talk about his little brother, but because I always get a little …

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Soul Man

I didn’t think Isaiah cared much for my singing. The old standby, “Baby Beluga,” has proved ineffective. “You Are My Sunshine” gets a yawn at best. My lovey-dovey voices work great to get a smile, but the singing, not so much. Tonight, as I got Isaac out of the tub and prepared it for Isaiah, …

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Bed Hopping

I’m not sure that Isaac is actually sleeping in his bed. For those of you relatively new to SitG, Isaac is our two year-old (though he frequently insists that: “Tomowwow is my birfday. I’m telling the twuf. It is”). He’s made a fairly regular habit now of climbing into our bed around 3 a.m. Understanding …

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Place

Eli is bringing me another bookmark, a long piece of white paper cut all the way around with craft scissors to give it a decorative border. I have hundreds of books. I think soon most of them will have a bookmark made by Eli. It’s what he does sometimes, just sits at his desk and …

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When They Jump

I’m teaching Isaac the beginnings of swimming. He likes for me to stand in the pool, close to the edge where he is crouching, his arms outstretched toward mine, hands twisting, beckoning me closer Daddy, closer, and then he jumps and I catch him, letting his head dip beneath the surface before I pop him …

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Little Negotiations

Overheard while driving: Isaac: “Twust me, Eli. Tomowow is my birfday.” Wife: “Isaac, your birthday isn’t until September.” Isaac: “Is that tomowow?” Wife: “No, sweetie. It’s a lot of days away.” Isaac: “Oh.” And then later, while Eli and Isaac flop around like otters in the bathtub, periodically splashing either me or my newspaper, or …

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Food-Minded

You can often discern what Isaac is thinking, even if he doesn’t tell you. When he wants to make trouble, his lips are pulled thin and the tip of his tongue shows through his teeth. When he is irritated, his eyebrows push together and he squints like a little cross-eyed thug. Plus there’s usually some …

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Easter Day

We stood in church and sang the hymns, the boys with their shirts tucked in for once, me in a tie for once. Caleb had written on his notepad: “He is risen. He is risen indeed. Eastre Day. Amen.” We sang the hymns and the sound of it would make even the heaviest heart lighter, …

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Learning

“Dad,” Eli explained, “water is stronger than crumbs, and germs are stronger than water.” I’m not sure what he means, exactly, but I have the feeling he’s right. Somewhere in his fantastic brain he’s thought this out, because that’s how he is; he thinks and thinks, and then he shares the connections his synapses have …

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Three Reasons

Caleb has borrowed my Essential Charlie Parker, and I don’t think he’s ever giving it back. He likes to listen to it as he falls asleep, and so I hear it drifting down to me from his bedroom, the cool sound of that inimitable saxophone, and with it the knowledge that my seven year-old is …

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Linger

Valentine’s evening, after the rush of work and dinner was over, three little boys gathered around my chair. Caleb and Eli each handed me brown lunch bags covered in heart-shaped stickers. Inside Caleb’s was a collection of elaborate cut-out hearts, two Reese’s peanut-butter cups, a little candy bar, and a handful of those confection-sugar hearts …

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Context

Isaac is in his literal stage. His mother asks, “Isaac, where is your sock?” Isaac replies, “I took it off.” (He’s also in his stripper stage. I thought this only happened to girls whose parents give them names like “Brandi,” but like so many other parental notions I entertained before this boy came along, this …

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Not Scared

We’re watching The Polar Express, Caleb, Eli, Isaac, and I. It’s cold and icy outside, and so we’re jumbled together on the couch, watching the magical Polar Express sway and slide across thin ice. A frightened expression has been forming on Isaac’s face. He clutches his favorite ducky close to his cheek and watches the …

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Love Hurts

The other night I held Isaac, our youngest, in my arms. He cooed “Daddy” and stroked my cheeks with his hands, an angelic smile on his lips. Then he stretched his arms back as far as he could and brought his sweaty little palms crashing into my ears. He followed this by maintaining a grip …

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Thoughtful

Eli is getting undressed for the evening. He fights out of his shirt and t-shirt, then sits on his bedroom floor to wiggle out of his pants. Now he is looking down past his little white pot belly at his tighty-whiteys. “Hey…” He stands up to inspect the situation further. He pulls out the waistband …

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Turkey Hunt

Caleb and Eli seek me out, each carrying a little plastic hatchet. “We’re looking for the turkey,” says Caleb. “Thanksgiving’s over.” “No, the little turkey that goes in the play barn.” “Oh. I don’t know where it is.” “Well, have you sawn it?” “No.” “No, Caleb, have you seen it. You said ‘sawn.’” Caleb walks …

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