Five Favorites

Linking up with Hallie for Five Favorites!

1. Plurals. My old roomie, Ashley reminded me that I needed to change my Instagram profile because it was missing a letter. I quickly changed boy to boys and all was right in the Instagram world and my heart. The birth story tab will soon be birth stories (once I finish writing the missing part to Conor's!), we talk about our sons, and we talk about brothers. Never have I ever loved the letter 's' so much.

2. My mom. She is here for the week spoiling us. Cooking for us every night, cooking things for the freezer, holding the baby, waking up with Ryan at 5am and letting me sleep in. Yep, spoiled is the correct word. Ryan woke up from his nap today asking for Lola. He loves her!

3. Burt's Bees. Alexandra brought me this in the hospital and I love it! My lips have been chapped lately, (I need to drink more!) and this remedies that while giving my super pale lips some life.

4. Fall walks. Okay, I guess I can't use the plural there since today was the first time that we ventured out the old pedestrian way to campus. Nevertheless, it is hard not to like them:

5. The Places We're Going. My best friend is quite the poet, and I know it. She has just launched a new blog for her witty poetry so click on over and check it out! I have adored going through her poems the past week, and I think you will, too. Here are some samples:

For those who are a tad OCD:

No time for mincing. Coarse chop!

DON’T! touch my toothpaste
You’ll mess up the flow
You’ll squeeze it all wrong
You’ll bother me so.

I’m very particuhler
About how it lays
It sits on the counter
In one spot it stays.

I know when you touch it!
Yes yes I do
I can tell that it’s moved,
And I know that it’s you!

I go in to use it
And something’s not right
The cap’s facing sink-ways
Not toward the lights!

And further I tell you
It’s rolled on its side
With Crest to the wall-
Oh! How I cried!

A terrible way
To start off a morning
With messed up new toothpaste-
Not even a warning.

The sight hurts my eyes
You squeezed from the top!

You squished at the sides!

Where in the world
Did you learn such poor tactics?
Who told you that this way

Was toothpaste best-practice?

Now it’s a habit,
A rote-y routine
I tell you it’s wrong though

That’s easily seen.

Next time you’re thinking
That your teeth need a scrub
DON’T touch my toothpaste

Til you’ve seen the above.

Kindly please follow the proper direction
And then I will show you a gentler affection.
I’m not being mean- you’ve just ruined my day

My toothpaste was tousled- someone’s to pay!

 - Laura LaPlante
And then what I think is the perfect autumn poem:

The sun, it was  shining from behind the clouds.

A soft dawning light found a crack in the blinds,
Came near to greet me and draw open my eyes.
The quiet was comfort and the comfort was full,
And warmth from my covers had distanced the cold.
A brisk frigid morning stood icy outside,
Stretching and seeking every crack it could find.
Its winds I could hear and they told me of greyness,
With hints of grey-blue that had no show of sameness.
These vivid chill colors just starting to show,
As the sun mosied up with its warm welcome glow.

I smiled a bit as I snuggled in more,
Today would be good, with good things in store.
Cloudy and cold was my type of weather,
For feeling so warm and light as a feather.
I’d start out with tea, I knew that I would,
And giddily read for as long as I could.
A cozy knit sweater to accompany me,
And all the day long lost in kind revelry.
Socks would be needed on my old wooden floors,
With boots at the ready standing tall at the door.

Yes, they’d be used; I’d venture on out
To cut through the air and walk into town.
No work today—not the typical kind,
Just my own wishes, all else left behind.
The café would be waiting, just waiting for me
To get a hot drink, a drink that I’d need.
Red-faced and bundled I’d linger to chat,
With coffee in hand and a hand on my hat.
Taking my time I’d cross the main street,
Thankful my boots were the things on my feet.

Leisurely then, ever easily so,
I’d go into shops with my heart all a’glow.
Warm friendly lighting on the wide range of shapes,
Backdrops of Venice- a warmer escape.
Notes I would make in my head as I went,
Things to remember from the studio’s bent.
The cold air around me brought warmth to my mind,
And active it harnessed and traced and designed.
So many ideas! I’d need to put down,
So hard at work without making a sound.

The red rustling leaves told me where to go next;
To the bookstore it is—new, used and the rest.
Something to read in the soon-to-be snow,
Something for evenings as candles burn low.
One more for the measure, with pictures and food,
Ever so apt for my mesmerized mood.
Home again, home, I made my way there,
I walked with the wind and forgot every care.
From the cloudy and cold, I stepped through the door-
It’s my type of weather; good things are in store.
- Laura LaPlante

--- Isn't she gifted? Click, click, click on over there.