When I was pregnant with my first baby, my favorite thing about decorating her nursery was finding the perfect crib set. I mean, the overpriced, matching bedding is what the nursery is all about, right? Your tiny person has to come home to a cushy, finished room worthy of your expectant friends pinning to their “Future Nursery” boards on Pinterest.

I followed the guidelines about no “pillowlike” bumpers to avoid suffocation. Her bumpers were more “quilt-like” and tied tight to the sides. They were on her crib for most of her first year.

Then the American Academy of Pediatrics came out with new guidelines saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, “No bumpers!!! Your infant will die!!!!” I promptly untied those baby killers and stashed them in the closet. She was an older infant at that point. We had already dropped her crib down. What happened next, I didn’t expect.

The thrashing! My God the thrashing! She was a mobile, rolling, crawling baby, even in her sleep. We would hear bangs and bumps, then the occasional cry over the monitor in the middle of the night. We would go get her in the morning and her feet would be wedged between the bars of the crib. I suddenly understood the need for bumpers, even though her crib met the safety guidelines for proper for crib bar spacing. How foolish of me to believe bumpers were just aesthetic.

Okay, so crib bumpers are a suffocation danger and the ties pose a strangulation threat, but if you don’t have bumpers your kid will bang into the side of the crib at night?

So, when I had my second baby I weighed the pros and cons and went ahead and got my son a full crib set with bumpers. Again, they were quilt-like and tied tight to the crib. The ties are not long enough to go around a throat, just a crib bar. The bumpers looked adorable and posed no hazard that I could see. No hazard until the night his face got close to the bumper and I freaked. He was too little to roll over at that point and I didn’t want his face so close to the bumper. SIDS! Ah! I couldn’t sleep. I tiptoed around his crib and took them off that night. I put them back on in the morning. I did the same the next day. Hey, I paid for the second baby’s bumpers. I didn’t get them at a baby shower, so I was going to use them! The on and off got old real fast.

By the time he was rolling over and crawling, I figured he was big enough to move his face away from a thin bumper and I left them on all the time. I watched him. He was fine. It wasn’t a problem. Then he started pulling up and we lowered the mattress. Pulling up means he pulled the bumpers down or off or used them as a pillow. I also heard of babies using them to step up on and subsequently flip out of the crib. I took them out. He’s 10-months-old now.

I kid you not, the day I am writing this he starts screaming when I put him down for his nap. I go up there to check it out and his leg is wedged through the bars, up to his thigh. He couldn’t pull his knee through. Poor little guy. He was all traumatized and weepy when I rescued him.

So, that leaves me to wonder if I should put the bumpers back on. Do I need to buy the mesh bumpers? (Please say “no.” I’m not a fan.) What’s your take on this?

• Did you use crib bumpers at all? What type?
• How long did you leave them on?
• Did your child ever get hurt from having bumpers on his/her crib? Did they get hurt NOT having bumpers on their crib?

I definitely feel I am devoting most of my time to my family, now. (That’s a nicer way of saying I just use the hashtag #SAHM.) But, I have a confession. One member of our household is neglected.

Poor Ginger. She used to be head bitch around here.

Ginger protecting Baby Charlotte in 2011.

We got Ginger Christmas 2005 as newlyweds. She was our original baby. We doted on, worried about and basically fell all over ourselves for this dog. A rescue group found her on the side of the road. You would never know it after she came to live with us. She was spoiled rotten. She found us. She found the biggest suckers she could find to buy her designer dog food and pick up her poop.

We were good dog owners, but nothing like my friend Trish. Trish is an all around better person than you and me. Seriously. She’s a nurse who helps operate on people. That alone gets you into heaven, but she also volunteers for a pet rescue group and is often a foster mom for dogs before they are adopted. Ginger would probably rather have her for a mom than me.

Sadly, Ginger didn’t get as many snuggles, walks and pets after Charlotte was born. Now that Henry is here? Psh! I feel like she’s downright ignored among the chaos some days. The worst was about a month ago. I feel so guilty about this, it’s taken a month to write this confession.

At the risk of sounding like the cheesy start of a suspense novel, it was a cold and rainy night. It was about 3:00 am. I was expecting to be woken up by the cries of a little milk lover in need of my boobs, but it was a different sound. It was a tapping and scraping. I felt like I was still dreaming when Greyson sat up and said, “Is the dog still outside?!” “The sound was Ginger jumping and scratching the front door. We both jumped up and ran downstairs. Every step I thought, “Oh, God! Poor baby! What have I done!? I left her in the rain! I am a horrible person!”

Her collar and harness were missing. That means she got herself caught on a tree or bush while attached to her long tether. We put her out there and let her enjoy our large yard. She loves it. Ginger can now get out of the collar and harness if it gets caught on something. It’s doggy contortion at its finest. She bounded in the door, tail wagging, dripping with the rain of abandonment. We grabbed towels and dried her off. In my sleepy deliriousness I looked up at Greyson and said, “We can’t tell Trish about this!”

Well, she knows now. Ginger got loose yesterday morning too as I was trying to get out the door to be the parent volunteer at the preschool class party. I haven’t put her on the tether since yesterday. I just strap Henry in the baby carrier and have Charlotte walk with me as I have her on the leash. I have to remember to be a good dog mama too. Ginger deserves to be head bitch.

Why are dogs with sunglasses always funny?

We’re learning which lightswitch turns the light out and which one grinds up our food scraps. I’ve discovered drawers in the bathroom to stash extra shampoo and the best way to load this dishwasher. We’re going to be naked if the new washer/dryer doesn’t arrive as scheduled on Tuesday. Despite this house being about as “move-in ready” as a house can be, my couches clash with the accent wall in the living room and we spent more than expected changing the locks at Lowe’s. But, I mean, show me someone who doesn’t spend more than they plan to at freakin’ Lowe’s.

I’m having trouble looking away from Pinterest’s endless “Home Decor” category. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment who needs Pinterest to remind me of how much work I have to do and how woefully inadequate my decorating skills are. Yes! I get it Pinterest! Everything at West Elm is amazing, but $45 for a throw pillow is a little more than I want to spend right now.

In other words, we’re settling in.

I have to say, despite the boxes and misplaced serving bowl, it already feels like home. Tonight Charlotte and I built a tower higher than we’ve ever made. I was so proud of her matching the colors of her blocks and her telling me about the animals on each one of them. We’re already making memories.

I spent this Easter feeling very blessed.  Just to update all of you, this is where we get to live.  We found a house.  A home.  We are likely moving on our 8th wedding anniversary next month.  We’re holding on.  April is going to be a whirlwind of a month.  I miss this space when I’m not writing regularly.  Bare with me.  Life is exciting right now.

For the next few weeks we will be soaking up every last memory in our little townhouse.  It’s one of my favorite places in the world and we have to leave it.  It’s very bittersweet.

I hope your Easter was this happy…

We’ve been practicing our grunting and bridge guarding.  I think Charlotte would be a pretty cute troll.  You know, like the early nineties collectibles we enjoyed.  Aw!  Here she is…

Now, if Greyson and I were trolls, we’d be gruesome doofuses like a Harry Potter troll.  Ew…

Why are we going to be trolls?  Oh, because since we’ve sold our house we have no where to live.  Surely we’ll doomed to live under a bridge somewhere and be a troll family.

Seriously.  We’ve made offers on three houses.  Two have fallen through and we remain in limbo with the third.  I’m starting to think a mossy bridge over a sparkling stream would be lovely.  But, then I remember we’d probably end up under a highway overpass with some smack addicts and I continue my MLS Google searches.  Well, as long as it’s an overpass near a good elementary school it might work.