Bunk Beds--for the Love!

image found here

I wish I had a photograph of my first bunk bed. There are so many parts of our childhoods that get photographed and video taped "so that we can remember..." but I will always remember certain events surrounding my bunk beds, photo or no photo.

My first bunk bed was built by my dad. It was made of sturdy wood and had the first half of the alphabet on it--only half because, well, that's just how many letters fit. :) It was painted white, with red, blue and green making the letter design. I slept on the top and the bottom, but mostly I remember the top because I am the oldest, and naturally the oldest gets the top bunk, right?

Untill...

We upgraded to a store-bought, metal bunk bed. This was much more sophisticated for us older more sophisticated girls, and the bottom bunk was a queen-size mattress. Now who gets to sleep where? Well, we traded back and forth, and for good reason--a lot can happen when you are sleeping underneath someone else bed!

Like the night that my little sister threatened to drop a HUGE loogie on my face because I was pushing up on her mattress with my feet. Leaning over the edge of her more narrow twin size mattress down to my queen (on which I slept at the very edge, due to a paranoia that her mattress was going to fall on me), she had a clear shot. And she was a good shot! I wonder if my mom and dad remember that night... :)

Rewind to the alphabet-bed years when I remember standing on the top bunk in my "Princess Bride" dress, my friend Lauren beside me--the prince, both of us hollering down to our lowly subjects below (our younger siblings, of course). During those princess years I remember lining the edge of the bed beside my window with all my stuffed animals to hide me from anyone trying to look in my window while I slept. I remember waking up from a nap, staring at the striped sunlight coming in through the blinds onto the ceiling and tracing them with my foot--well, almost.

Fast forward again to the second bunk bed, still in my old room on the night before my wedding. I slept on the bottom bunk with my cousin Lindsay that night, two giddy and excited girls unable to sleep with anticipation. The next day I took a few minutes to sit on the edge of that bunk one last time, and write in my journal. What I wrote had nothing to do with that bunk bed, but the memory of that day seems somehow enhanced by the moments I spent reflecting there.

Alligators!

Mercer Mayer has got to be one of my favorite classic children's books authors/illustrators. I can not get the title of one of his books out of my head this week. "There's and Alligator Under My Bed."It is automatically what I went too. Is it sad that I automatically think of children's book titles over adult books? I hope it is not saying something for my intelligence. I am just drawn to them I guess.

While researching for this post a little about Mercer Mayer, I now think he is even cooler. His website is awesome for kids, and he reads for kids on YouTube! How cool is that. Seriously, my sister-in-law told me a story about him that made me really admire him a while ago, and now this! My kids are going to love it. So if you need some bedtime stories, check this out! If you need some kids coloring pages or come kid friendly tech time, check out his website. It is awesome!

Here is the link to his YouTube Channel. Enjoy!

Man I love this guy! What are your favorite bedtime stories?

On any given morning...

...this is what I find under my son's bed:

I lucked out to find a husband that likes to make beds. No, he needs to make beds. He's a very routine-driven person, and this is part of his daily schedule. Have you ever seen a bed made in phases? He first strips all the top sheets and blankets and smooths out the fitted sheet so there is not one bump or wrinkle. See what I mean?

Then he leaves for awhile to do something else so the linens can get the "sleep stink" out. He'll come back later and place each layer of top sheets and blankets with as much precision as the one before. Since my son's bed is up against the wall, he scoots himself underneath to pull the covers down on the back side, and that's where the kids come in. They like to "help", but there's sure a lot of giggling going on down there for any help to be going on. I love it!

For me, the house may be a mess, but I always feel better knowing the beds are made. Thanks, honey, for making this seemingly-small-but-so-important task part of your day and for giving me a perfectly smooth and comforting place to lay my head every night.

The Blessing of Not Having

There is nothing under my bed. Not one box or lost shoe or item of seasonal interest; not even one little dust bunny. And I don't ever vacuum under there. How can it be possible, you ask? It's simple. I don't have an under to my bed - no bed frame, just the box-spring right there on the floor with a tidy little bed-skirt to cover up the truth. And I love it.

Sure, sometimes I feel like something's missing. Like I ought to have a bed frame, that perhaps that's exactly the thing that will suddenly make me a real adult. (And then I read Jenni's post, realize for the millionth time that I take myself far too seriously, and run like mad for my tutu.)

Mostly, though, it's a reminder of all the things in life that I think I want, but don't really need. And that not having them can actually be a blessing. Like how having no bed frame means I never lose things under the bed and I never have to vacuum. Seriously, I do stop sometimes and look at my bed without its frame and think about how lucky I am to 1) have a bed to sleep in, and 2) never have to crawl under it to look for ... anything. And then I start thinking about how lucky I am in so many simple ways.

Recently, I think of President Monson's words in General Conference:

"Regardless of our circumstances, each of us has much for which to be grateful if we will but pause and contemplate our blessings.

"This is a wonderful time to be on earth. While there is much that is wrong in the world today, there are many things that are right and good. There are marriages that make it, parents who love their children and sacrifice for them, friends who care about us and help us, teachers who teach. Our lives are blessed in countless ways."

I love the peace I have in my heart when I will simply choose to see the blessings in my life. It's amazing what a little gratitude can do.

Maybe someday I'll find the perfect bed frame, the one that makes vacuuming under it a joy. But for now, for the way that not having one makes me count my blessings, it's worth putting it off indefinitely.

Tutus, Glitter and Hide n' Go Seek

Last night...this was me!

source

This of course was not actually me but I felt just like this little girl.  I had been magically transformed the minute I put on my pretty pink tutu.  I hadn't planned for this to happen.  It just did!  There was purple glitter in my hair and on my face (there still is) and silly stripey socks that went to my knees.  I had on a silver crown, jewelry and a pink wand that somehow made me feel like I was actually some sort of fairy.  I caught myself skipping around the house, sliding across our wood floors in my super slippery pink socks and feeling this overwhelming desire to run around and be extra loud.  I would answer the door with a cheesiness that even made me laugh and I was so giddy I couldn't stop.  Last night was my night to loosen up and be little again.  It felt so good to forget about all my cares and worries.  This is ME we are talking about!!!  The girl who worries about EVERYTHING and EVERYBODY.  Who knew that a tutu could fix my obsessions.  I needed that!  Is there such thing as tutu therapy?  Anyway...

My house was filled to the brim with little boys and girls in costumes.  Tinkerbells and ballerinas, fairy princesses and story book favorites.  They were all feeling  pretty and imaginary and for one crazy fun night I got to be one of them. 

While the "grow ups" talked about their kids and their hectic lives we played circle games, read stories, I put silly spells on each one of them with my wand and my awful ability to rhyme, we told secrets under the kitchen table and played hide and go seek.  I was in girl heaven!

(Just to paint the picture correctly there were about 25 or 30 kids there and almost all of them were cute little girls under the age of 6).  

As half of us (my team) snuggled closely together under our big fluffy white bed, giggling and whispering as we were anticipating the other halves ability to find us, I had one of those MOMENTS.  A moment that I'll never forget where I suddenly wished to I could be 4 again.  I really wanted that.  Not only so that I could fit my entire food loving body under the bed but mostly because I would get to live it all over again.  Live it all over again with the same amazing childhood that I had only this time I would never remove my tutu.

Those cute, simple and innocent girls taught me an important lesson last night.  Who says you have to stop being a kid when you turn 18?  Who told you to take your tutu off and grow up?    I say put on your pink shoes and your glittery headbands and be a grown up but don't be a boring grown up who forgets what it's like to be fun and to have a silly time. I think I'm going to focus more on what makes me really happy and less about what other pople think of me.  I want to make a best friend just by asking them if they want to be my BFF and quit worrying about the things that don't really matter.  More importantly...I want to try and make somebody else's day by showing them how fun life is and how great it is to be a kid at heart!  Come on...I know you miss it!  I already do and I have only had my tutu off for like 24 hours.  If I sleep in it will I have fun dreams?  Hmmm.....I like that idea.  Any others?