Pooh," said Rabbit kindly, "you haven't any brain." "I know," said Pooh humbly.

When we moved, Primo was very upset at the prospect of leaving our old house, the only house he knew. But when we promised him a Winnie the Pooh room in the new house, he brightened and resigned himself. After all, he had these cool orange cats hand-painted by Mama all over the walls of his old room -- but Pooh? Nothing tops Pooh!

So the new room was the first one painted - No Bother Blue with Pooh Bear Yellow trimwork and Blustery Sky Blue stencils.



The Pooh menagerie were all gifts from my older brother's now-ex-fiancee, who was a huge Tigger fan herself.Piglet is around somewhere, too, probably under the bed. When we got an extra Pooh, we took him back and got Piglet and Primo lugged that Piglet all over the mall and fed him his French fries at lunch.
The Pooh comforters were thoughtful hand-me-downs from the boys' older cousins, and the Pooh sheets were Primo's, to celebrate his then-new big-boy bed.


We received many many cards when Primo was born and I framed and hung up some of my favorites. I think they're cute decorations in a baby's room.


I saved up all my diaper points for the free Pooh chair, and then, before Seggie was even conceived, I also got the Tigger chair. They make for a cozy reading spot.


When Santa brought Segundo this little Pooh he'd seen in the grocery store a few weeks before Christmas, Seggie danced and shouted with pure delight: "My Pooh! I love my Pooh!"


We are Pooh purists in this household. These are mine, from when I was little. Clearly well-read and well-loved. The wit, clever wordplay, and optimistic yet realistic life view of the originals make the books reading pleasure for children and adults alike.

Which brings me to my favorite lamp. I have lamp issues - I have very few I actually like, and the ones I have are too bright or not bright enough or wobbly or whatever. To be fair to my lamps (whaaa??), I get frequent migraines so me and light sources are not so simpatico anyway.

But this lamp is not fraught. In fact, just looking at it makes me feel like a good mom.

When Primo was smaller, we were wheeling around Home Depot and he saw this lamp. Already in the grip of his Pooh passion (which continues to this day, by the way) he sighed blissfully and said, "Oh, Mama! Pooh lamp! Can I have that Pooh lamp?"
This wasn't a whine or a bratty, spoiled "I want!" It was an innocent yearning over an object of pure, sweet desire. The lamp cost forty dollars. Seemed like a lot to me for a kid's lamp. I did not buy the lamp that day, and Primo was ok with this.

But when we moved - and I was painting his Pooh room - something like a year later - I bought the Pooh lamp with my own cash, not out of the household budget so I wouldn't feel guilty about the price -- and plugged it in and put it on his dresser. When Primo first came to the new house and finally saw his Pooh room, with his new big-boy sheets and the Pooh lamp -- his thousand-watt smile just beamed -- man, I felt like a million bucks.

Sometimes it takes so little to make a child happy.


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Thursday Show-and-Tell, courtesy of Blackbird
(a day late...)