Now I lay me down to sleep. Or at least the baby.

When we lived in New York we bought a small pack n' play for Oliver to sleep in. We didn't have a lot of room. And this was the eency teeny pack n' play. And it matched our duvet cover. He slept there for about 6 months before we moved him upstairs to the crib.

When we moved back to Utah, Camille was a wee six weeks old. Oliver just over a year. I was exhausted. There was No Way I was going to free my baby boy from the morning confines of the crib, and so Camille slept in the pack and play in our room until she was about 6 months old and then I went and bought another crib so both my small ones could be safely confined in rooms other than mine.

The portable has been great and handy. But it has been used. It no longer matches the duvet. (New duvet.) And Caleb, when he is not sleeping by me, is a mover and a shaker, and after all these years, the pack n' play was just too willing to move and shake with Caleb and kept waking him up, unnecessarily, in my opinion.

So. I hauled the crib into our room. (Both Oliver and Camille have long since abandoned their cozy bars for the freedom of twin beds.) It sits against the far wall across from the foot of our bed. It makes this room feel comfy and cosy with the addition of more furniture than I usually like in a bedroom. I have plans to update my bedroom. I've found the new furniture (yet to be purchased) and am looking for a headboard. But between the crib, my desk, a bookcase and a fabulous chair we have a satisfyingly balanced space that I am currently a little in love with. But I think it really has to do with the crib.

And mostly, who's in it.