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Cloistered Away

is a lifestyle blog, focused on simple, purposeful family living, written by Bethany Douglass.
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a little brother’s trump card.
SAM (the boys’ good friend): Guess what? I have a picture of my new baby sister! (frantically waving a 3-D in-color sono of the new baby girl the Kings are about to adopt) LIAM: Oh. I
parenting lesson #736: movie ratings exist for a reason
For the last week I’ve debated whether to put this on the blog in pursuit of saving face (as well as my son’s). But, in the words of Burke and Liam, I figured, “what the
“oh, blythe!”
I’ve recently been thinking quite a bit about this series of toddler books surrounding a boy named David entitled, “Oh, David!” “No, David!” “David gets in Trouble.” “Ooops.” — you get the idea. Maybe I simply forget about the
happy 5th birthday, liam
It seems like a year ago, as opposed to five, that I was holding you for the first time. I remember the nurse handing you to me, bundled up like a little glowworm, and leaving
new life
Mark had asked me recently, “Are you sad that this is your last pregnancy?” (Somehow hoping to solidify our agreement that this will be our grand finale.) “No.” I responded. “It’s not the actual pregnancy
august in review
Yes. I’m writing again. We’ve been so busy, tired, hot, but mostly just busy this last month. Honestly, I’m glad that August is over.  I need to be revived with the idea of fall, moreover,
a transition
This last week, it seems that Liam has officially crossed the bridge taking him from the ephemeral days of baby-dom into destined boyhood. We’ve seen glimpses of this new world with potty-training, riding a bike, learning
an animal petting party
As aforementioned, we went to Austin last weekend to celebrate our niece/cousin Ella’s third birthday (early — since they’re moving). By no understatement, the party was crazy. The kids loved it (aside from the little girl who
laissez-faire
I have been followed by the lingering smell of urine all day today. It seems that no matter where I traverse within my home or car, it wafts sweet, stinky mockery in my face, “I