Wednesday, March 4, 2015


Tuck: "Awww. Look at my fish mobile, Mama. What happened to that?"
Me: "I took it down the day I came in to get you from your nap and found you swinging from it."

We prepped. We painted. We paced. We pushed. And pushed. And pushed. And pushed. Tuck came in his own good time ... in "Tuck Time." We were a family in an instant. There were tears of happiness, tears of frustration, tears of fears ... and tears of colic.

The constant hum of the vacuum was our only hope against the rage of the cry. It soothed the beast within the tiny baby. That, and his daddy's thumb. But only Daddy's. Not Mama's. Not Meme's. Not even the UPS Delivery Man's (there were no limits to what I would do to stop the incessant crying).  

Within those walls we rocked, sang, bounced and laughed. Within those wall we were safe, warm, happy and loved. 

Within those walls...we were...a little family.


  1. Colic. Oh, dear God. The very reason Dave built the dryer napper (should have been patented!) that allowed us place Dean in a safe sleeping situation atop the dryer thus allowing his parent to sleep next to it on a cheap exercise mat on the floor ... for up to 59 minutes! (The maximum running time of that dryer)

    Dave actually cut the cord on the dryer buzzer himself with industrial scissors in the middle of the night. Nonetheless, the cessation of the calming dryer rhythm always signaled that the crazy screaming/crying (from Dean and whichever parent accompanied him at the time) was imminent!

    Did we get off track here? Great post. :)