the tale of the little crib

There once was a little crib. A little crib that was built to convert to any manner of sleeping arrangements. But this particular little crib was the nocturnal refuge of one very special little boy in his very special little room in his very special house. 

But this little boy did not remain little for long. And the little crib did not remain bare. 

Slowly things began to join him and the little crib. His pillow. His blanket. His company of stuffed animals that just multiplied and multiplied. 

Until one day the little crib was just tooo little. The not so little boy needed something more. And so the little crib (along with mommy and daddy) decided it was time. 

One night the not so little boy went to bed in his little crib, not fully understanding that tomorrow evening he would go to bed in a different space. 

First a mattress and box spring arrived, followed shortly by a bed frame. The mail takes time you see. There was a great deal of hammering and drilling and maneuvering until the little crib was no more. In it's place stood the big bed. At first the big bed didn't have it's blanket. The mail takes a long time you see. But when the not so little boy saw his big bed, even without the blanket, his eyes went round and his smile grew large and up he climbed! He went to the far corner of the bed and laid his head on his very favorite pillow and slid his hand into his very favorite pillowcase in his signature move and he closed his eyes and smiled. 

That first night the not so little boy was up very late. He had not napped that day and he had played very hard with his not so little friends. Bed time was far past. He brushed his teeth and climbed into the big bed with his big sister and his big mommy and daddy and they read a story. They read Ferdinand. The big sister kissed her brother good night and daddy carried her to her very own big bed. Mommy tucked the not so little boy in. Kissed his head. Whispered I love you D. Good night! Oh and don't get out of bed okay? To which he replied: go out dere now! And she left. Shutting the door completely. Latched and all. With a child proof lock inside so the not so little boy couldn't escape. 

But that not so little boy didn't attempt escape. No. He stayed in that very corner with his hand inside his pillowcase and he slept there the whole night through. And he did the same for the next night. And the next night. And the next.

After a few days the not so little boy's chosen bedding arrived and the big bed officially became his. His "Thomas Bed."

The little crib served a purpose of all purposes. To help this little boy grow and to be his safety and his nighttime home. His first bed. But with that purpose achieved it was time to move on and grow up, just like the not so little boy. The big bed will be his until he chooses an even bigger bed. And when that happens this big mommy will probably cry a zillion tears. 




A photo of each of my brood, once a week, every week, of 2015.

Dominic, aged 11 weeks: This was the week in which he decided to give up on his anti-bottle strike and drink away. It had been weeks since he had one, and I was trying daily and sweating our Saturday night plans of leaving the kids. My sister just has the magic touch I guess. Three and a half blissful child free hours were ours!

David, aged 2 years: He has been very in to The Lorax lately. He asks for it constantly with severe pronunciation on the 'ax'. He might be turning into a wee bit of a tree hugger, his eyebrows crease and he just looks so very concerned when he asks if the Once-Ler is a bad guy during this song. Since he loves to read I also got him the book because... books are better than movies.

Letteria, aged 4 years: Mothering and hovering and clinging. There have been so many children around lately, from infants to just barely crawlers to unsteady walkers and she has been in charge of them all. My mother calls this "payback" but I have no idea what she is referring to. Letty has also perfected the art of the 1-2-3 countdown for anyone who doesn't bide her wishes.



rules to live by.

When I was growing up my parents were.... strict. Once my brother hit college they became more lax and then Matt came around and brought with him his inappropriate sense of humor and all bets were off. I thought it could be kind of funny to go back into time a bit with some of the rules we lived by. You know other than the obvious no sex, drugs, and rock and roll. 

- no nail polish unless it was clear. My aunt got married when I was in sixth grade and I remember her asking my father permission in order to paint my nails the lightest shade of baby pink. I was sitting at my Grandma's kitchen table practically bouncing up and down with anticipation. He reneged. 

- no makeup. My first piece of makeup was mascara, and it was clear. It came to me in my Easter basket and I was in high school. I learned how to apply the rest of my makeup from friends before going to dances and have literally not changed it since. This, to me, is a downfall on my part. Teen Beat makeup should never be every day make up.

- no popular radio until you were 13. And this was before some of the more wonderful songs have graced popular radio. Meredith Brooks man... You ruined it for us. 13 was also the magic number in that it opened the doors to MTV. I waited so long to be able to watch My So Called Life and Daria. Well worth the wait. And along the same lines as television and what we could and couldn't watch.... No Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. No Butthead either, MTV allowances or not.

- no R rated movies. No movies about witches for that matter regardless of rating system. I went to a Halloween themed sleepover when I was in middle school where The Craft would be viewed. I, ever the honest daughter, informed my mother. In order to be allowed to go I had to promise not only to not watch, but to not listen. I brought my Walkman and magazines and turned my back during the movie. I still haven't seen it. Devil's work that one. 

- no two piece bathing suits. When I was 14 I was asked to go to The Outerbanks with my girlfriend and I desperately wanted to wear a two piece and be a big girl. My mother told me she would "talk to my father" and that she would need to approve the final purchase. I came home with a sports bra and a pair of shorts. Thattttttttt was my first two piece. 

- no pierced ears until you were ten. I think it was ten anyways. I was a real jerk and made my sister wait until she was ten too even though my parents no longer cared. I really revolted against this as soon as I could. I fooled those OCMD Boardwalk people, I sure did. When all was said and done I had 17 holes in my ears. That one backfired didn't it parents? Remember when John pierced his ears and he was forbidden to have them in when dad was in the house? And I used to have to re-pierce his poor ears every time he left? Blood? Everywhere? Yup. That.

- church every Sunday. If the roads of Maine were impassable we held church in the formal living room, with me botching up a version of Christ the Lord Has Risen Today on the piano and my dad reading from The Daily Bread. 

- eat all your peas. Okay this rule I never ever abided by come hell or high water. And you knew that wretched thing kids say? "When I'm a mommy I'll never make my daughter eat her peas!" Well folks. I don't. Nor will I ever. I hate those foul creatures. I would rather sit in the dark sobbing into my plate of cold peas and warm milk than suffer that horribleness. Or I would rather receive a spanking times three than eat just one offensive bean. To bed with no dessert? Sign this stubborn girl up. And for the record yes Letty takes after me. 

Sometimes we tease them, my parents. When the discussion around the dinner table hasn't left bathroom humor or sexual puns for an hour someone sighs and says look how far we've fallen. When my dad pours me a glass of wine that he has purchased himself (always Matt's favorite kind too). When all of us have a tattoo here or there. They were strict, yes... But they were perfect and I wouldn't change a thing. 

Except maybe the earrings thing. 

So instead of "I'm All About That Bass" I'll teach my three all about The Beatles or Jay and The Americans, followed by a side of Neil Diamond. 

Oh and might I add two of my own rules kids of mine??
- no Stephen King books until you can drive, at least. 
- you are never ever I mean never allowed to date your brother's best friend. Ever. 

The end.



letty cam returns

My daughter has an iPad. As do both boys (because most certainly an infant requires an iPad), thanks to a very generous set of grandparents.  She has been known to take a lot of photos in her time, some quite humorous. And well lately she has become quite the photographer, chasing around family members and machine gun firing the shutter with gusto. So out of the 1,111 photos on her iPad, (57 of which were of her wellies) here are a few of my favorites.

The Happy Daddy:
The Peekaboo Mommy:
The Blurry Aunt Ashley:

 The Sneak Attack on Uncle T and Uncle Colton:

The Nonna as Seen From Below:

The Beautiful Hair of Miss Sadie (or as she likes to call it, The Best Side of Me):

 The Silly Uncle Robbie:

 The Hi Pop!:

 The I'm Annoying Aunt Beth by Taking 23 Pictures of Her:

 The A Normal Day in the Van:

 The Gorgeous Views in Ephrata:

 The Unsure Lena:

The I Made My Brother March and March Until He Collapsed All While Mommy Nursed and Begged To Not Be Photographed:

 The Toys:

 The E at Rockwell's:

And approximately 312 of these:
The girl will perfect the selfie I am sure of it.

Past Letty Cams here.



a lego table from target

The problem of the Legos and the storage of the Legos. Totally not awesome. Pinterest has about a zillion and a half ideas, Legos has tons of merchandise you can buy with the toys in order to store them should you be willing to give up your right arm to pay for it. I was going to have Matt make something but we found this table on clearance at Target and just couldn't pass that up. Matt couldn't have made a table for less than that. It has space for six storage cubbies and it is the perfect height for little kids. So much easier than building from scratch.

The table assembled:

He searched eBay for the cheapest Lego plates and I searched the rest of the interwebs for the cheapest fabric bins (Target, found here) and it just makes my OCD heart so very happy. 

Thankfully I am not the only mother creating Lego table like spaces for their kids. Katie just recently created this wonder and I'm so glad she gave the little tip of attaching all the plates with Legos first, prior to using the wood glue.... have to have the spacing right, otherwise - yikes!

I put all of the instruction manuals into ziploc baggies for now, one with Letty's sets and another for David's. The Legos themselves are all currently separated into his and her sides of the table but we all know that won't last long, much to Letteria's chagrin.

I know that the Lego War has only just begun. I know that for years to come they will be getting these sets and now that there is plenty of room for them in the basement I say bring them on! The best part might be the table's location. Out of sight. Out of mind.


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