Jan 7, 2013
My wife and I stood in the kitchen weeping as we held each other.
We weren’t making up from a fight.
Everyone in our family was healthy.
The problem was that our little boy had nearly outgrown his side crib—a crib that I’d made for him over the summer with my own hands, cutting the wood, fitting it together, sanding it down, staining it, and attaching it to the side of our bed. Ethan had grown long and wild, and now he was kicking at the end and whacking his left arm into the side.
He needed to move into his big crib full time, and the thought of it tore at our hearts…