rocks and animals

A friends rock collection and our animal collection equal loads and hours of fun.
Our giraffe is a carnivore and the baby lion is a rock-ivore.


dear deedle: spots

rocking chair
linen closet - deedle
Dear Deedle,

Lately, I have been carving out little spots for you.  There are only one or two more boxes left to unpack and my head has switched from nesting into the new house to nesting for you.  There is a little bed beside our big one, a table for the nursing supplies beside the rocker and a shelf with freshly washed blankets awaiting the load of burp clothes and swaddles in the linen closet.   

The weeks are creeping up on single digits and my doctor appointments are coming more frequent.  People grin when you make my belly shake.  Your getting the hiccups a lot and either you really love them or they make you angry... because you kick and turn and kick some more when ever you have them.  Your daddy and I really enjoy finding your body parts and poking.  It is so neat to be able to feel your little parts.  Keep them growing big and strong little one.

Love, me.


first window

I love my new kitchen.  There is so much room and space.  The kids can eat or play in there while I do dishes or cook.  It has more even space than I could ever possibly need.  There are empty drawers and shelves.  I am spoiled rotten.

Michael and I have had some tiny kitchens over the years.  Our very first apartment had a kitchen so tiny that you had to make a choice...  open the oven, open the fridge, have more than one person in there, or sit at our little dining table.  No two of these things could be done at the same time.  

Back then I had had about three meals I could cook.  Spaghetti, shake-n-bake chicken and grilled cheese.  A gifted Betty Crocker cookbook changed it all for me.  Chicken Marsala - the very first recipe I tried and we loved it.  It was  uncomplicated and only had a few special ingredients.  Cooking it made me feel fancy and eating it made us feel fancy - wine, mushrooms, and tarragon. 

And that is how it started.  Realizing that what I could make in that tiny kitchen could turn a normal night into something more than that.  Better than average.  I learned to love my tiny kitchen.  It taught me a lot.
I learned to put a baking sheet over the sink to give me extra counter space.  A few good pans were better than a huge set.  If I didn't use it or really need it - it was gone.

And here we are, 10 years later.  I have a lot more drawers, a ton more counter space, but things really haven't changed that much. Even though I thought it would.  I don't keep my slow cooker in the basement or my boxes of tea tucked in a mixing bowl anymore.  Things have room to breath and I have empty drawers.  Don't get me wrong, the space in amazing.  Being able to have everyone in the kitchen when I cook - I love that.  Love it.  But looking back I don't think I would give up my time in all those tiny kitchens.  

It was good to me.  I learned way more than cooking.  I learned that we love food and I love to cook.  I learned how to make do, make it work, and how I only really need one of something.  That keeping things in the oven is a great storage solution - until your forget to check it before preheating.  I learned that a really sharp knife can replace an entire row of cool gadgets.

There is one thing in my new kitchen that I have never had.  The thing that I may never be able to give up.  A window over the sink.   I get to start my day hearing the birds and seeing the early morning fog burn slowly away as the sun comes up.  Seeing the sky change colors as the morning starts... I love it so much I can barely stand it.



She is practicing tracing her letters on the iPad.
She is normally right handed - but not today.

"I am slower with this hand, but I am teaching Feodore."

joining Adrienne... finally!



There has been talk recently about a father-son haircut trip.

I know we are getting closer to it actually happening.
Some mornings little man's hair is channeling a really bad Donald Trump impression.

But then there are other days.
Days full of strawberry-blonde curls.


Dear Deedle


Hi little one.  Sorry it has been a while for these letters of mine.
Ahhh but here we are - almost 28 weeks along.
(Your mamma is awkward at mirror photos... what do you do with that arm?)

My ticker for you hit the 90 day mark a few days ago...
now that made me sit up straight.

We are still getting settled into all the newness after the move.
I have rearranged the kitchen a few dozen times and left a space for your little things to go.
I made room for a few bottles on the shelf the other day... fingers crossed you might take one.
(A date night some day would be really awesome for your daddy and I.)

Being honest little Deedle - that is where we are in the baby prepping phase...
a half empty shelf and some room in our closet.

I got asked the other day about your nursery.
It is the thing people ask - especially when you have just moved into a new house.
It is part of the baby-small-talk protocol I believe.

But like your big brother, there is not a nursery.
Just your special spots...
in our bedroom, in the living room and I am sure more will show up everywhere else too.

I have a tiny shopping list of needs and wants.
The itty-bitty clothes have been sorted and are waiting their wash.

And I imagine you all the time.


Your little bum that makes my belly all lopsided...
 and tiny feet whose kicks really angers the cat trying to cuddle.
Your squishy face and pouty mouth.
The baby fuzz on your head.
How your knees will tuck up and arms will flail.
And that precious weight of you on my chest.

Less than 90 days Deedle.

Hugs and butt pats, Mama




Thankfully, we found Stan.
Stan is a few blocks away and he makes great donuts.
Great donuts are essential for us.
Especially when there are birthdays to celebrate.