Culbert Report

Anna loves books. It's one of the most common requests in our home, "should we read a book?" And it's a request that can't often be denied. She, like most 2 year olds, loves repetition as well.   She could read the same book over, and over, and over, and over, and over again. And sadly for Mom and Dad, we don't find "The Little Engine That Could" quite as stimulating as she does. However, I recently read that repetition for 2 year olds significantly aids development and provides essential stepping stones for learning to read independently. It's interesting, since reading that, I have renewed motivation to read and re-read like never before.  Simply knowing that repetition is accomplishing a specific and beneficial purpose has made it tolerable:  "Yes, Anna, I think I can read it again." Reminding myself of the purpose helps to do the hard things, the boring things, the small, seemingly inconsequential ...

It's hard to believe, but this little guy is one year old! I hope that when I look back and remember the childhood of my little boy, I'll call to mind... his shock of red hair and toothy grin, his tone of voice in communicating any and every thing, why talk when you can yell? his aggressive style of cuddling (if someone's not crying after a snuggle, then it hasn't been done correctly.) his "no, no, no" head shake, immediately followed by yes, yes, yes doing the very thing you know wasn't to be done. all of the crazy nicknames ! Anna's best friend and partner in crime, the needed and treasured addition to our family. Peter's favorite activities right now include:  tinkering with his train, doing laundry (specifically his bath letters,) pulling himself up on everything, taking things out of boxes, pulling things off shelves, unfolding clean clothes (aka making a mess whenever possible,) bathing, and sc...

She just didn't seem like the kind of person who could die. Love her or hate her, if she was in the room, you knew about it.  She did not hold back.  She was strong-minded.  She was strong-willed.  She was strong. She taught us that the loudest voice in the room does get heard, and that it's worth speaking up for what you believe in. But she could make you laugh; she could put you at ease; she could melt a room with the sound of her laugh.  She asked questions.  She gave advice.  She cared. It was "the summer of Crystal Pepsi," according to my brother.  And the summer of, "Joel, you could marry your cousin, you're not blood related."  It was the summer of, "I only have one rule:  no rough-housing."  It was just one of many summers that we spent as family: cousins sleeping out on the trampoline in sleeping bags, pigs named Louise, J-dip gone bad, late night kick-the-can, "NOT!", hot tub bubbles, "The White Cruise...