Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
10/10/12
7/9/10
My audacious nursling
Welcome to the July 2010 Carnival of Nursing in Public
This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige at NursingFreedom.org. All week, July 5-9, we will be featuring articles and posts about nursing in public ("NIP"). See the bottom of this post for more information.
***It was in my third trimester that I fell in love with my daughter. Her tiny self nestled inside my womb, she would roil and tumble, acrobatics in the safest place we can ever be. I began feeling connected to her, the realization that she would soon be my girl as I sat in an English class in sweltering summer heat at a rectangular table with my sweet (and radiantly beautiful) friend Jessy, who was sometimes there and sometimes not. I began finally talking to her, singing to her and dreaming of her. I would imagine her at two, at three, at ten. I imagined her smiles and her kisses, her little knees and her sweet curls, fluttering eyelids and precious baby kisses. I read about breastfeeding and mama blogs about natural birth in beat up dog eared copies of Mothering while munching on fiber bars as the other students in my classes read the newest Cosmo articles and IM’d their girlfriends and sipped on latte’s. She would twist and turn and at times I had to leave the class simply because the tumbling was so funny to me that I couldn’t keep from laughing in the middle of our section on grizzly Vietnam poetry.
In my 37th week I made a switch from the University’s Women’s hospital to a midwifery practice five minute’s walk from our then apartment. They loaned me books and encouraged me to attend La Leche League meetings held in their tiny spare room. Meanwhile, my partner stared at me in awe and signed us up for cases of free formula samples and bought huge bottles of ready-made Enfamil for “just in case," and loaded our cabinets with plastic bottles, nipples, and sterilizing microwave bags to clean them all with.
When she was born he held her first. She gnawed on his shoulders searching for sustenance while I received stitches for tearing and cried that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I was terrified of latching her on that first time and did it while no one else was in the room to hide what I anticipated to be inevitable failure. The midwives had mentioned that they would be there in a few minutes to help us nurse, and so I asked my partner to find me some food. When he left, I curled her against my chest and let her feed as she would. In the coming days, breastfeeding was hard.
We found out later that we had thrush and together we fought that nasty yeast and spun me through phases of depression. The second night of her life, my partner fed her a bottle of formula because when I started feeding her, blood gushed from her umbilical cord. It was old blood from it beginning to dry up, but he convinced me somehow that I must have hurt her while breastfeeding, that I was squishing her stomach, and gave her a bottle. After we realized she was fine, I contacted a La Leche League member who was in our area and she gave me the emotional support via emails that I needed to continue feeding on demand. I began to nurse at the University when she was two weeks old, for my last semester in college. I would feed her in the hallways between classes while young ladies streamed around me and young men gawked, and surely I was awkward still but in my mind those moments were full of elegance. I nursed in the car while he drummed his fingers impatiently at my anxiety about feeding her, because she had a bottle of expressed milk at home and if that wasn’t enough, he could always just give her formula.
I took her with me to a job fair one evening at the University and sat feeding her in a corner when I was approached by the organizer of the event. She told me “this was inappropriate and I needed to leave.” It happened again when I tried to feed her at the gym before heading to a class: “you’re not allowed to do that here.” Both of those times I simply left. It is hard to nurse a squirming baby who wants to know why a stranger is leaning over their mama and making angry faces, so I would leave, hungry babe in arms and try to find a place that wouldn’t disturb anyone, embarrassed. But then one day I finally realized how ridiculous that was. Restrooms are nothing if not filthy and loud, stairwells are terribly uncomfortable and sitting here in this comfortable chair where I was before I started nursing is actually pretty great!
I was literally shocked to learn that I had breastfeeding rights. In most states (my own included) it is legal to breastfeed when and wherever you are as long as you the mother have the legal right to occupy that space. And so I began feeding her wherever I needed to. I nursed her in Target and at the restaurant, at Starbucks and on benches at the park and eventually I found the blessed ERGObaby Carrier that allowed me to breastfeed while walking, while shopping at Old Navy, while traveling abroad on trains and planes and many, many times, sitting in the parked car in the middle of a trip somewhere. It made me feel more justified somehow, to not have to sit down to feed her, to be able to nurse AND pick out tomatoes or breastfeed and walk the dog. She will be two in August and we have nursed across many states and several countries, with obvious results: I have a healthy, thriving, happy, easily comforted, blissful toddler.
I support the rights of breastfeeding mamas because I know how hard it can be to be alone in a room of people who are horrified and offended at your audacity to feed a baby. I have come a long way since I started breastfeeding, but the best sights I’ve seen were not those moments I spent huddled on lidless toilets in uncomfortable and dirty restrooms trying to feed my girl before someone disturbed us with the roar of a toilet in the next stall over-but were the peaceful perfect moments I was able to relax and enjoy her beautiful face as she filled up with breast milk and fell asleep to mama smiling sweetly at her, knowing I had given her everything I possibly could.
Welcome to the Carnival of Nursing in Public
Please join us all week, July 5-9, as we celebrate and support breastfeeding mothers. And visit NursingFreedom.org any time to connect with other breastfeeding supporters, learn more about your legal right to nurse in public, and read (and contribute!) articles about breastfeeding and N.I.P.
Do you support breastfeeding in public? Grab this badge for your blog or website to show your support and encourage others to educate themselves about the benefits of breastfeeding and the rights of breastfeeding mothers and children.
This post is just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit our other writers each day of the Carnival. Click on the links below to see each day’s posts - new articles will be posted on the following days:
July 5 - Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World
July 6 – Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child
July 7 – Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.
July 8 – Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives
July 9 – Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It
This post was written for inclusion in the Carnival of Nursing in Public hosted by Dionna and Paige at NursingFreedom.org. All week, July 5-9, we will be featuring articles and posts about nursing in public ("NIP"). See the bottom of this post for more information.
***It was in my third trimester that I fell in love with my daughter. Her tiny self nestled inside my womb, she would roil and tumble, acrobatics in the safest place we can ever be. I began feeling connected to her, the realization that she would soon be my girl as I sat in an English class in sweltering summer heat at a rectangular table with my sweet (and radiantly beautiful) friend Jessy, who was sometimes there and sometimes not. I began finally talking to her, singing to her and dreaming of her. I would imagine her at two, at three, at ten. I imagined her smiles and her kisses, her little knees and her sweet curls, fluttering eyelids and precious baby kisses. I read about breastfeeding and mama blogs about natural birth in beat up dog eared copies of Mothering while munching on fiber bars as the other students in my classes read the newest Cosmo articles and IM’d their girlfriends and sipped on latte’s. She would twist and turn and at times I had to leave the class simply because the tumbling was so funny to me that I couldn’t keep from laughing in the middle of our section on grizzly Vietnam poetry.
In my 37th week I made a switch from the University’s Women’s hospital to a midwifery practice five minute’s walk from our then apartment. They loaned me books and encouraged me to attend La Leche League meetings held in their tiny spare room. Meanwhile, my partner stared at me in awe and signed us up for cases of free formula samples and bought huge bottles of ready-made Enfamil for “just in case," and loaded our cabinets with plastic bottles, nipples, and sterilizing microwave bags to clean them all with.
When she was born he held her first. She gnawed on his shoulders searching for sustenance while I received stitches for tearing and cried that I wasn’t pregnant anymore. I was terrified of latching her on that first time and did it while no one else was in the room to hide what I anticipated to be inevitable failure. The midwives had mentioned that they would be there in a few minutes to help us nurse, and so I asked my partner to find me some food. When he left, I curled her against my chest and let her feed as she would. In the coming days, breastfeeding was hard.
We found out later that we had thrush and together we fought that nasty yeast and spun me through phases of depression. The second night of her life, my partner fed her a bottle of formula because when I started feeding her, blood gushed from her umbilical cord. It was old blood from it beginning to dry up, but he convinced me somehow that I must have hurt her while breastfeeding, that I was squishing her stomach, and gave her a bottle. After we realized she was fine, I contacted a La Leche League member who was in our area and she gave me the emotional support via emails that I needed to continue feeding on demand. I began to nurse at the University when she was two weeks old, for my last semester in college. I would feed her in the hallways between classes while young ladies streamed around me and young men gawked, and surely I was awkward still but in my mind those moments were full of elegance. I nursed in the car while he drummed his fingers impatiently at my anxiety about feeding her, because she had a bottle of expressed milk at home and if that wasn’t enough, he could always just give her formula.
I took her with me to a job fair one evening at the University and sat feeding her in a corner when I was approached by the organizer of the event. She told me “this was inappropriate and I needed to leave.” It happened again when I tried to feed her at the gym before heading to a class: “you’re not allowed to do that here.” Both of those times I simply left. It is hard to nurse a squirming baby who wants to know why a stranger is leaning over their mama and making angry faces, so I would leave, hungry babe in arms and try to find a place that wouldn’t disturb anyone, embarrassed. But then one day I finally realized how ridiculous that was. Restrooms are nothing if not filthy and loud, stairwells are terribly uncomfortable and sitting here in this comfortable chair where I was before I started nursing is actually pretty great!
I was literally shocked to learn that I had breastfeeding rights. In most states (my own included) it is legal to breastfeed when and wherever you are as long as you the mother have the legal right to occupy that space. And so I began feeding her wherever I needed to. I nursed her in Target and at the restaurant, at Starbucks and on benches at the park and eventually I found the blessed ERGObaby Carrier that allowed me to breastfeed while walking, while shopping at Old Navy, while traveling abroad on trains and planes and many, many times, sitting in the parked car in the middle of a trip somewhere. It made me feel more justified somehow, to not have to sit down to feed her, to be able to nurse AND pick out tomatoes or breastfeed and walk the dog. She will be two in August and we have nursed across many states and several countries, with obvious results: I have a healthy, thriving, happy, easily comforted, blissful toddler.
I support the rights of breastfeeding mamas because I know how hard it can be to be alone in a room of people who are horrified and offended at your audacity to feed a baby. I have come a long way since I started breastfeeding, but the best sights I’ve seen were not those moments I spent huddled on lidless toilets in uncomfortable and dirty restrooms trying to feed my girl before someone disturbed us with the roar of a toilet in the next stall over-but were the peaceful perfect moments I was able to relax and enjoy her beautiful face as she filled up with breast milk and fell asleep to mama smiling sweetly at her, knowing I had given her everything I possibly could.
Welcome to the Carnival of Nursing in Public
Please join us all week, July 5-9, as we celebrate and support breastfeeding mothers. And visit NursingFreedom.org any time to connect with other breastfeeding supporters, learn more about your legal right to nurse in public, and read (and contribute!) articles about breastfeeding and N.I.P.
Do you support breastfeeding in public? Grab this badge for your blog or website to show your support and encourage others to educate themselves about the benefits of breastfeeding and the rights of breastfeeding mothers and children.
This post is just one of many being featured as part of the Carnival of Nursing in Public. Please visit our other writers each day of the Carnival. Click on the links below to see each day’s posts - new articles will be posted on the following days:
July 5 - Making Breastfeeding the Norm: Creating a Culture of Breastfeeding in a Hyper-Sexualized World
July 6 – Supporting Breastfeeding Mothers: the New, the Experienced, and the Mothers of More Than One Nursing Child
July 7 – Creating a Supportive Network: Your Stories and Celebrations of N.I.P.
July 8 – Breastfeeding: International and Religious Perspectives
July 9 – Your Legal Right to Nurse in Public, and How to Respond to Anyone Who Questions It
6/28/10
ERGObaby Carrier Review (and a chance to win!)
The first time I put on an ERGObaby Carrier, I was surprised at how weighty it felt on my shoulders. My girl was only about six months old and she fit snugly in it, her chin rested on the soft shoulder straps. We borrowed that ERGObaby Carrier for our trip to Europe when she was nine months old, and it was the single best thing we took along. I used it first in the airports when my hands were full of bags and our passports even zipped neatly into the front pocket.
Throughout the trip it continued to serve us more purpose than anything else we took for our daughter. On the blustery streets of London and to the churning Underground, I wore her, up stairwells seven stories deep and through street festivals in Dublin, on to the Tour de Eifel; we wore and wore and wore her. But the best part was that I quickly learned how to breastfeed her in it, saving me countless hours of awkwardly perching in minuscule European restrooms or trying to lull a tired babe to sleep with no bed to lay her on. I happily Nurse in Public whenever she asks to, and the ERGObaby Carrier has become synonymous with breastfeeding for her and I. I simply drop the length of the straps down, lift up my shirt (I like wearing tank tops underneath my blouses for breastfeeding) and she leans to one side and rests her head on my elbow to bliss out on mama milk. One of my absolute favorite breastfeeding moments with her was in a small French garden outside of Paris where I laid the ERGObaby Carrier on the ground as a small blanket and snuggled down beside her to rest and nurse her to sleep. An elderly French lady who didn’t speak a word of English came and sat right next to me, patting her leg and crooning as my girl nursed away.
(our little one has a ride in the ERGObaby Carrier in the Wicklow mountains of Ireland)
Ease of Use: The ERGObaby Carrier isn’t just for adventures though, and it’s truly the one and only carrier you will ever need for your baby. It goes from newborn weight (with an insert) through 40pounds, but they’ve been tested to hold much more than that. I personally can’t imagine my girl being too big for it as she’s almost two and I still wear her. I’m currently a single mama while my partner is away for six weeks this summer and it has liberated me to do things I didn’t know I would struggle doing. Grocery shopping, for example, is difficult when there’s a wee one trying to snack on everything in the cart, and hard enough if there are two adults along. But if I go right during nap time, and put her on my back in the ERGObaby Carrier, she will snooze the trip away. I put her in it again to unload the car and free up both of my hands to grocery bags. And, if she wants a nurse while we’re out, I simply snuggle her into the ERGObaby carrier and pull my blouse aside. She doesn’t need much more encouragement than that to “murse.”
Comfort: At work (I‘m a part-time Nanny), I put her in it when she needs a break or a cuddle) and I’ve had the pleasure of wearing other sweet babes in it too, though my girl does get a bit jealous at seeing other wee ones in “My ERGO!” It is brilliantly comfortable and actually reminds me of a well-fitted backpack. Even my partner enjoys wearing her for snuggles or out at the farmer’s market (to free up his hands for watermelons and fresh strawberries!) as it’s so comfortable and easily adjusted. Another great point is that you can easily wear your child in different positions. My favorite is the front carry, but my partner prefers the back carry. You can also wear it on your hip or wear two at a time (front carry and back carry) if you have more than one little one.
Value: The ERGObaby Carrier is on the pricier side of all carriers I have ever owned, ranging from $120-$148. With that being said, it is truly worth the price, and is also going to last through as many babies as you may be blessed with. I truly love my ERGObaby carrier. It is blissfully soft, sturdy and has allowed me to nurture my babe any and everywhere I go. She asks for it “the ERGO!” by name when she wants a snuggle or a “mursie” and I have loved every minute of having it. It's also probably our most used baby item besides our stash of cloth diapers.
You can visit the ERGObaby website at http://www.ergobabycarriers.com/
ERGObaby has graciously offered one of our Carnival of Nursing in Public participants an ERGObaby carrier (valued between $120 and $148). *Preferred color cannot be guaranteed and is dependent upon stock available.
To enter to win an ERGObaby Carrier, submit an original post to the Carnival of Nursing in Public by June 30th.
Rules for entry – There are 3 ways to be entered in the drawing. You will get one entry for each submission up to 2 drawing entries in each category (you can submit more than 2 items but you will only be entered into the drawing 2 times per category for a maximum total of 6 entries per person). Here’s how to enter:
1. Submit an original post – This should be a well-written, unpublished piece submitted by June 30th using the original post submission webform.
2. Submit a NIP photo – Please submit your picture via email to CodeNameMama {at} gmail {dot} com and BabyDustDiaries {at} gmail {dot} com. You must own rights to share your pictures.
3. Submit a Tweet – Submit your Tweet that shares a NIP tip or bit of encouragement in 140 characters or less using the Tweet submission webform. Be sure to include the #CarNIP hashtag and your Twitter ID in that 140 character count.
Also: please comment to let me know which ERGObaby Carrier you will chose if you win!
Throughout the trip it continued to serve us more purpose than anything else we took for our daughter. On the blustery streets of London and to the churning Underground, I wore her, up stairwells seven stories deep and through street festivals in Dublin, on to the Tour de Eifel; we wore and wore and wore her. But the best part was that I quickly learned how to breastfeed her in it, saving me countless hours of awkwardly perching in minuscule European restrooms or trying to lull a tired babe to sleep with no bed to lay her on. I happily Nurse in Public whenever she asks to, and the ERGObaby Carrier has become synonymous with breastfeeding for her and I. I simply drop the length of the straps down, lift up my shirt (I like wearing tank tops underneath my blouses for breastfeeding) and she leans to one side and rests her head on my elbow to bliss out on mama milk. One of my absolute favorite breastfeeding moments with her was in a small French garden outside of Paris where I laid the ERGObaby Carrier on the ground as a small blanket and snuggled down beside her to rest and nurse her to sleep. An elderly French lady who didn’t speak a word of English came and sat right next to me, patting her leg and crooning as my girl nursed away.
(our little one has a ride in the ERGObaby Carrier in the Wicklow mountains of Ireland)
Ease of Use: The ERGObaby Carrier isn’t just for adventures though, and it’s truly the one and only carrier you will ever need for your baby. It goes from newborn weight (with an insert) through 40pounds, but they’ve been tested to hold much more than that. I personally can’t imagine my girl being too big for it as she’s almost two and I still wear her. I’m currently a single mama while my partner is away for six weeks this summer and it has liberated me to do things I didn’t know I would struggle doing. Grocery shopping, for example, is difficult when there’s a wee one trying to snack on everything in the cart, and hard enough if there are two adults along. But if I go right during nap time, and put her on my back in the ERGObaby Carrier, she will snooze the trip away. I put her in it again to unload the car and free up both of my hands to grocery bags. And, if she wants a nurse while we’re out, I simply snuggle her into the ERGObaby carrier and pull my blouse aside. She doesn’t need much more encouragement than that to “murse.”
Comfort: At work (I‘m a part-time Nanny), I put her in it when she needs a break or a cuddle) and I’ve had the pleasure of wearing other sweet babes in it too, though my girl does get a bit jealous at seeing other wee ones in “My ERGO!” It is brilliantly comfortable and actually reminds me of a well-fitted backpack. Even my partner enjoys wearing her for snuggles or out at the farmer’s market (to free up his hands for watermelons and fresh strawberries!) as it’s so comfortable and easily adjusted. Another great point is that you can easily wear your child in different positions. My favorite is the front carry, but my partner prefers the back carry. You can also wear it on your hip or wear two at a time (front carry and back carry) if you have more than one little one.
Value: The ERGObaby Carrier is on the pricier side of all carriers I have ever owned, ranging from $120-$148. With that being said, it is truly worth the price, and is also going to last through as many babies as you may be blessed with. I truly love my ERGObaby carrier. It is blissfully soft, sturdy and has allowed me to nurture my babe any and everywhere I go. She asks for it “the ERGO!” by name when she wants a snuggle or a “mursie” and I have loved every minute of having it. It's also probably our most used baby item besides our stash of cloth diapers.
You can visit the ERGObaby website at http://www.ergobabycarriers.com/
ERGObaby has graciously offered one of our Carnival of Nursing in Public participants an ERGObaby carrier (valued between $120 and $148). *Preferred color cannot be guaranteed and is dependent upon stock available.
To enter to win an ERGObaby Carrier, submit an original post to the Carnival of Nursing in Public by June 30th.
Rules for entry – There are 3 ways to be entered in the drawing. You will get one entry for each submission up to 2 drawing entries in each category (you can submit more than 2 items but you will only be entered into the drawing 2 times per category for a maximum total of 6 entries per person). Here’s how to enter:
1. Submit an original post – This should be a well-written, unpublished piece submitted by June 30th using the original post submission webform.
2. Submit a NIP photo – Please submit your picture via email to CodeNameMama {at} gmail {dot} com and BabyDustDiaries {at} gmail {dot} com. You must own rights to share your pictures.
3. Submit a Tweet – Submit your Tweet that shares a NIP tip or bit of encouragement in 140 characters or less using the Tweet submission webform. Be sure to include the #CarNIP hashtag and your Twitter ID in that 140 character count.
Also: please comment to let me know which ERGObaby Carrier you will chose if you win!
4/9/10
raising a wild child
We love the outdoors. We don't have a lot of wild place to explore, but I want my Little berry to see that the world is beautiful. She notices the littlest things, a tiny bug, a bee on a leaf, a golden flower smashed underfoot. This week we played under the blossoming trees and built tiny houses for imaginary fairies, butterflies, snails.
I know she doesn't understand the concept of "imaginary," but she concentrates so hard helping. She fetches grasses and sticks with precision, plucks tiny violets and pebbles out of the way, waits for an ant to cross before stepping.
Here is where we started:
And when we finished, we had this tiny teepee of twigs:
capped with a lovely golden flower and a million brilliant rays of sun
Waiting to spin a little mystery into the everyday of some unsuspecting soul.
What have you taken the time to build with your child lately? Next time you're in the park, I challenge you to pause, find a small space, and make a fairy home (take pictures and share them with me if you do!)
I know she doesn't understand the concept of "imaginary," but she concentrates so hard helping. She fetches grasses and sticks with precision, plucks tiny violets and pebbles out of the way, waits for an ant to cross before stepping.
Here is where we started:
And when we finished, we had this tiny teepee of twigs:
capped with a lovely golden flower and a million brilliant rays of sun
Waiting to spin a little mystery into the everyday of some unsuspecting soul.
What have you taken the time to build with your child lately? Next time you're in the park, I challenge you to pause, find a small space, and make a fairy home (take pictures and share them with me if you do!)
3/30/10
Spring giveaway winner!
Little Berry has a cold and had a rough day today. She's not nursing at all though she has tried and I'm handling it as well as I can. She's sad, but will get better and be back to nursing soon hopefully. So this is why I haven't announced a winner yet- I was rather busy playing mother comfort (which is a role I am normally happy to have but is hard when she wants me to comfort her with nursing and can't nurse).
All that to say-our winner also is a mamma, in fact, she calls herself Mama Bennie. She has two sweet babes and a blog over here that's been a bit quiet since the arrival of her youngest Mamma Bennie, I hope she enjoys her new dress!
If you'll email me your mailing address and link to the one you want I will send it your way!
All that to say-our winner also is a mamma, in fact, she calls herself Mama Bennie. She has two sweet babes and a blog over here that's been a bit quiet since the arrival of her youngest Mamma Bennie, I hope she enjoys her new dress!
If you'll email me your mailing address and link to the one you want I will send it your way!
3/23/10
vintage ((spring)) giveaway
Today I have a giveaway of the finest sort.
I'm offering one reader an item of their choice from my etsy shop, shipping included. You can pick whatever suits your fancy, you can keep it for your own cherubs or give it away to be loved by another dearie.
There are dresses (lots of dresses!) perfect for Easter or summertime, a couple boy items and two sweet dolls handmade by me.
To enter, hop over to my etsy shop and peek around, come back here and tell me what you would pick if you win. I happen to love all the sweet items I have over there so I hope you do too.
If you are the winner and the item you've selected is sold by the time I close my giveaway I will ask you to select another item or give you store credit equivalent to the item's price.
This contest will be open until March 30th and is open to residents of the US and Canada.
For additional entries, tweet about this giveaway (up to twice a day) and link to that tweet (in your RSS twitter feed) in your comments. Also for 3extra entries (each) you can follow my blog publicly and/or favorite my etsy shop.
Please leave a separate comment for each entry.
And...comments are open!
I'm offering one reader an item of their choice from my etsy shop, shipping included. You can pick whatever suits your fancy, you can keep it for your own cherubs or give it away to be loved by another dearie.
There are dresses (lots of dresses!) perfect for Easter or summertime, a couple boy items and two sweet dolls handmade by me.
To enter, hop over to my etsy shop and peek around, come back here and tell me what you would pick if you win. I happen to love all the sweet items I have over there so I hope you do too.
If you are the winner and the item you've selected is sold by the time I close my giveaway I will ask you to select another item or give you store credit equivalent to the item's price.
This contest will be open until March 30th and is open to residents of the US and Canada.
For additional entries, tweet about this giveaway (up to twice a day) and link to that tweet (in your RSS twitter feed) in your comments. Also for 3extra entries (each) you can follow my blog publicly and/or favorite my etsy shop.
Please leave a separate comment for each entry.
And...comments are open!
3/6/10
My birth story with little berry, part 2
This is the final part of my birth story with Little Berry. For the first installment, see here .
Around noon on August 4th, I was still laboring hard. My water had still not broken, but I was having strong contractions every three minutes that I could not talk through. I was using the shower for 10-20 minutes at a time and it really helped. At one point, I began to feel guilty about the water usage and came out of the shower. My midwife suggested I use the birthing tub, and filled it for me. It was bad timing.
Pappa Starbucks was at home (remember, it was just around the corner) to walk our dog. I was exhausted so she filled the tub for me and I got in, leaving me alone. I felt suddenly and intensely overwhelmed by how alone I was and I started feeling tense, upset, perhaps even scared. I felt hot and painful and angry and loathed the birthing tub, although I think if I had tried it again with Pappa Starbucks there to would have been able to relax and enjoy it. I got out and put my headphones back on, listening to the same song over and over. It was "Crazy" by Seal and I had been using it throughout the morning. Something about it helped me relax and I kept it on repeat. I bounced on the birthing ball, tried the birthing chair, and when Pappa Starbucks returned, I was exhausted and realized I needed sleep. I had thought there was no way I could sleep in labor but I did-for almost an hour I was in a heavy hard sleep that was lucid and also very deep. When I woke up, I felt like I was coming out of a trance and I began laboring hard again.
I know my midwife checked me and I was almost fully dilated. I tried the shower again and I remember standing under the sharp splattering of hot water, the sound of running water filling the room, when I entered the third stage of labor. I wanted to push, I needed to push, but I was in the shower alone and there was no one else there to keep me from falling. I had a vision of responding to the urge to push and then slipping and hitting my head, or of the baby falling down the drain, a bizarre frantic airless panic sank in. Looking back on moments like this I wish wish wish I had sought out a doula. I could have used someone throughout my labor to just "be" with me. I was alone a lot. My midwives were busy with another mamma to be who had arrived (they complained about her while I was pushing!) "only two centimeters dilated and already screaming."
I crawled out of the shower on my knees, found a towel, and went back to the pretty yellow room that was around the corner. I think if I had not been alone in the shower I would have probably given birth rather quickly standing up there, it felt natural, compulsive.
When I went from the rushing water to the quiet yellow room I also felt tense again and instead of still needing to push, I began walking. I spent about 15minutes walking, my contractions very strong and consistent. I was on my knees breathing in and out to Seal when my midwives started insisting I try different positions. They were tired I'm sure. It was about 3:00 in the afternoon and I had been there since about 8am. It occurred to me that this is going to happen soon and I'm almost there!
I know I was anxious. I felt very unsupported. I'm okay saying this now, I've worked through most of the feelings I have about her birth. Writing these things down for me is the last step in moving past the sorrow I have over what I expected versus what I experienced. Not all births with midwives and "natural birth centers" are peaceful or beautiful. Not all women who choose unmedicated births have support teams and I was one of those women.
My midwives were fairly aggressive during the last stage of labor and the 45minutes I spent pushing. They held my legs, they told me when to push, they moved the lip of my cervix back forcefully without asking if I wanted them to. They massaged me forcefully with olive oil and never once asked if I wanted them to. And I didn't have the energy, knowledge, stamina- to tell them they were hurting me. I wish I could have that hour back, I would do it differently, I believe firmly that these are all interventions, that left on my own I could have found a natural position (rather than flat on my back, really, the most unproductive position) and I would be sharing different words.
But I lay, and I pushed and I cried, and I yelled words about how "I DIDNT WANT TO BE PREGNANT ANYMORE!!!!" And after this feeling of immense anger and solitude passed,
I breathed in and pushed down down down through the end of the world and out into the spinning light of a yellow room I birthed my beautiful daughter whose cord was tucked in spirals around her neck, where Midwives clamped it and cut it even though her pappa had asked to do it himself, and lay her on my chest to learn how to breathe.
We went home that same evening around 9:00, 4 hours after she became my daughter, little berry was safe at home, in a small apartment on a pretty street that will always be a little special, it was where I began to feel like a mama.
Around noon on August 4th, I was still laboring hard. My water had still not broken, but I was having strong contractions every three minutes that I could not talk through. I was using the shower for 10-20 minutes at a time and it really helped. At one point, I began to feel guilty about the water usage and came out of the shower. My midwife suggested I use the birthing tub, and filled it for me. It was bad timing.
Pappa Starbucks was at home (remember, it was just around the corner) to walk our dog. I was exhausted so she filled the tub for me and I got in, leaving me alone. I felt suddenly and intensely overwhelmed by how alone I was and I started feeling tense, upset, perhaps even scared. I felt hot and painful and angry and loathed the birthing tub, although I think if I had tried it again with Pappa Starbucks there to would have been able to relax and enjoy it. I got out and put my headphones back on, listening to the same song over and over. It was "Crazy" by Seal and I had been using it throughout the morning. Something about it helped me relax and I kept it on repeat. I bounced on the birthing ball, tried the birthing chair, and when Pappa Starbucks returned, I was exhausted and realized I needed sleep. I had thought there was no way I could sleep in labor but I did-for almost an hour I was in a heavy hard sleep that was lucid and also very deep. When I woke up, I felt like I was coming out of a trance and I began laboring hard again.
I know my midwife checked me and I was almost fully dilated. I tried the shower again and I remember standing under the sharp splattering of hot water, the sound of running water filling the room, when I entered the third stage of labor. I wanted to push, I needed to push, but I was in the shower alone and there was no one else there to keep me from falling. I had a vision of responding to the urge to push and then slipping and hitting my head, or of the baby falling down the drain, a bizarre frantic airless panic sank in. Looking back on moments like this I wish wish wish I had sought out a doula. I could have used someone throughout my labor to just "be" with me. I was alone a lot. My midwives were busy with another mamma to be who had arrived (they complained about her while I was pushing!) "only two centimeters dilated and already screaming."
I crawled out of the shower on my knees, found a towel, and went back to the pretty yellow room that was around the corner. I think if I had not been alone in the shower I would have probably given birth rather quickly standing up there, it felt natural, compulsive.
When I went from the rushing water to the quiet yellow room I also felt tense again and instead of still needing to push, I began walking. I spent about 15minutes walking, my contractions very strong and consistent. I was on my knees breathing in and out to Seal when my midwives started insisting I try different positions. They were tired I'm sure. It was about 3:00 in the afternoon and I had been there since about 8am. It occurred to me that this is going to happen soon and I'm almost there!
I know I was anxious. I felt very unsupported. I'm okay saying this now, I've worked through most of the feelings I have about her birth. Writing these things down for me is the last step in moving past the sorrow I have over what I expected versus what I experienced. Not all births with midwives and "natural birth centers" are peaceful or beautiful. Not all women who choose unmedicated births have support teams and I was one of those women.
My midwives were fairly aggressive during the last stage of labor and the 45minutes I spent pushing. They held my legs, they told me when to push, they moved the lip of my cervix back forcefully without asking if I wanted them to. They massaged me forcefully with olive oil and never once asked if I wanted them to. And I didn't have the energy, knowledge, stamina- to tell them they were hurting me. I wish I could have that hour back, I would do it differently, I believe firmly that these are all interventions, that left on my own I could have found a natural position (rather than flat on my back, really, the most unproductive position) and I would be sharing different words.
But I lay, and I pushed and I cried, and I yelled words about how "I DIDNT WANT TO BE PREGNANT ANYMORE!!!!" And after this feeling of immense anger and solitude passed,
I breathed in and pushed down down down through the end of the world and out into the spinning light of a yellow room I birthed my beautiful daughter whose cord was tucked in spirals around her neck, where Midwives clamped it and cut it even though her pappa had asked to do it himself, and lay her on my chest to learn how to breathe.
We went home that same evening around 9:00, 4 hours after she became my daughter, little berry was safe at home, in a small apartment on a pretty street that will always be a little special, it was where I began to feel like a mama.
1/20/10
Uh-oh...
And down she falls.
Yesterday Little Berry was playing on her toy car that my mom (hi mom!) bought her. She stood up in the seat as I was stirring some boiling spaghetti...and fell. She chipped her front top tooth and now it seems to be causing her some sensitivity issues. I'm more than a little scared about taking her to the dentist. I don't want my daughter to be sedated...or drilled on...or scared either. I feel pretty awful. Hopefully (and I've been told) it's not that big of a deal. They should just be able to put a little cap on it/or file it down a little bit. I hope it is that easy.
(when this photo was taken, I had my foot on the car. I feel pretty stupid now for letting her do it at all. yes. I'm stupid)
Yesterday Little Berry was playing on her toy car that my mom (hi mom!) bought her. She stood up in the seat as I was stirring some boiling spaghetti...and fell. She chipped her front top tooth and now it seems to be causing her some sensitivity issues. I'm more than a little scared about taking her to the dentist. I don't want my daughter to be sedated...or drilled on...or scared either. I feel pretty awful. Hopefully (and I've been told) it's not that big of a deal. They should just be able to put a little cap on it/or file it down a little bit. I hope it is that easy.
(when this photo was taken, I had my foot on the car. I feel pretty stupid now for letting her do it at all. yes. I'm stupid)
1/14/10
101
My last post was my 100th post. I didn't even notice it. I guess that goes to show how fast things are moving these days. It's been feeling almost balmy here and this is such a wonderful thing because I was feeling so blue to be cooped up indoors all day every day. I'm sure it will not last, though when we were further East it certainly felt Springlike much sooner in the winter and I can't tell you how much I loved the way the city would fill our apartment in the winter. It made being inside seem like being just behind the curtain on stage to hear the rattling of the trucks on the freeway echoiing into our little space, filling the walls with the humming noises of someone else's adventure.
Little Berry loves being out of doors with me, brings me her shoes and my own, her jacket, the keys, just to get my attention that she wants to go walk. When it's bitter cold though she doesn't want anything to do with it, and squalls to be picked up so she can tuck her face into my neck and poke the freckles on the side of my face. She calls them each a "ball" though, or somedays, "murse?" which is Little Berry for nurse and I have no idea why she thinks my freckles are going to yield milk.
I'm in desperate want of a bicycle, I want a lovely vintage style one that's on display at Target and a sweet baby carrier that goes behind the seat. I've been spying on them at the Thrift stores and have found a few contenders but they all need work and they're not that much less than a new one here. So I'm saving my dollars and waiting, and when Spring comes and I have a summer to look forward to on flat roads of rural Mississippi (or Arkansas, who knows?) I will buy my bike and buckle in my Little Berry who by then will be quite a BIG Little Berry, and we will ride.
We're having that language explosion age, I've been warned about it before but it just slipped away from me that this is what's happening, until this morning I was putting laundry on the clothesline and she was standing a few feet away pointing at the sky and saying skyyyyeeeee? followed by burrrrd? 'reeeee? (tree)and turtle? In the past week or so, she's learned mouse, and keys, and socks (shocksh?) and cow as well as that cow's go Mooooo?! and points to their udders and says "Murse?". She can say Pig (pigsh!), which sounds a lot like her enthusiastic "fish!" and snort when she sees their picture. She spots airplanes in the sky that look like mere pinpricks in the clouds and shrieks about them until they've again faded into the mystery that is a cloud. This morning I was telling her something and I said the word "one"- I think I said "oops! That's only one shoe." And she said: "Two?" but she usually gets pretty lost after four.
I have two pieces to her little kitchen set painted a pretty white, and am waiting to paint the last, the stove. It is somewhat tedious because my minutes to do it are spare but the reward is great. She loves it immensely and has been pilfering from my silverware drawer every few minutes to play whatever games it is that gets her so wrapped up and immersed in taking things out and putting things back in again. I've decided to try my hand at making toy food for her. I have plenty of felt wool but I don't like the feel of wool toys enough to do that, so I've decided to use pre-knitted fabrics, like organic cotton sweaters I picked up at the thrift stores in heavy weight yarns and cut them apart to make them from. I will post photos of this when I'm done as well as a tutorial if I succeed.
Here's something to think about until I post again:
Which is cutest?
Little Berry, last January
OR: Little Berry this week
Little Berry loves being out of doors with me, brings me her shoes and my own, her jacket, the keys, just to get my attention that she wants to go walk. When it's bitter cold though she doesn't want anything to do with it, and squalls to be picked up so she can tuck her face into my neck and poke the freckles on the side of my face. She calls them each a "ball" though, or somedays, "murse?" which is Little Berry for nurse and I have no idea why she thinks my freckles are going to yield milk.
I'm in desperate want of a bicycle, I want a lovely vintage style one that's on display at Target and a sweet baby carrier that goes behind the seat. I've been spying on them at the Thrift stores and have found a few contenders but they all need work and they're not that much less than a new one here. So I'm saving my dollars and waiting, and when Spring comes and I have a summer to look forward to on flat roads of rural Mississippi (or Arkansas, who knows?) I will buy my bike and buckle in my Little Berry who by then will be quite a BIG Little Berry, and we will ride.
We're having that language explosion age, I've been warned about it before but it just slipped away from me that this is what's happening, until this morning I was putting laundry on the clothesline and she was standing a few feet away pointing at the sky and saying skyyyyeeeee? followed by burrrrd? 'reeeee? (tree)and turtle? In the past week or so, she's learned mouse, and keys, and socks (shocksh?) and cow as well as that cow's go Mooooo?! and points to their udders and says "Murse?". She can say Pig (pigsh!), which sounds a lot like her enthusiastic "fish!" and snort when she sees their picture. She spots airplanes in the sky that look like mere pinpricks in the clouds and shrieks about them until they've again faded into the mystery that is a cloud. This morning I was telling her something and I said the word "one"- I think I said "oops! That's only one shoe." And she said: "Two?" but she usually gets pretty lost after four.
I have two pieces to her little kitchen set painted a pretty white, and am waiting to paint the last, the stove. It is somewhat tedious because my minutes to do it are spare but the reward is great. She loves it immensely and has been pilfering from my silverware drawer every few minutes to play whatever games it is that gets her so wrapped up and immersed in taking things out and putting things back in again. I've decided to try my hand at making toy food for her. I have plenty of felt wool but I don't like the feel of wool toys enough to do that, so I've decided to use pre-knitted fabrics, like organic cotton sweaters I picked up at the thrift stores in heavy weight yarns and cut them apart to make them from. I will post photos of this when I'm done as well as a tutorial if I succeed.
Here's something to think about until I post again:
Which is cutest?
Little Berry, last January
OR: Little Berry this week
12/22/09
not one, but two
I forgot to share this yesterday. Sunday when we went out to do our regular grocery shopping, I had just given Little Berry a bath. Around here, that's quite an undertaking because she has such dry skin and hair. It's a constant battle to keep her healthily moisturized. She LOVES washing herself in the tub but letting her use soap is problematic. I have yet to find a soap that truly moisturizes her skin, let's not even talk about her hair. If you know of one that is great for biracial skin, especially babies, preferably one that has lots of olive oil in it, please let me know!
Lately I've just been giving her the tub with water in it and a little bit of Mr.Bubbles to play in and then after she's played for a while I get her hair wet and then I rub olive oil on her scalp. About a tablespoon but she doesn't have much hair so it doesn't take much.
Anyway, Sunday right before we left she was getting out of the tub and I decided to try a new hairdo. So far she has only had enough hair for a single little pony tail.
See it there? That tiny little wisp on top of her head?
And Sunday, just when I had given up hope forever,
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I was able to wrangle her into TWO piggytails.It was a proud moment for me.
Lately I've just been giving her the tub with water in it and a little bit of Mr.Bubbles to play in and then after she's played for a while I get her hair wet and then I rub olive oil on her scalp. About a tablespoon but she doesn't have much hair so it doesn't take much.
Anyway, Sunday right before we left she was getting out of the tub and I decided to try a new hairdo. So far she has only had enough hair for a single little pony tail.
See it there? That tiny little wisp on top of her head?
And Sunday, just when I had given up hope forever,
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I was able to wrangle her into TWO piggytails.It was a proud moment for me.
12/18/09
Snow**
\
We got snow flurries today. I guess they don't exactly count. Little berry loved them, staring out the window squealing about the "rain!" which is exactly what it turned to. We did Christmas cards last week with her in front of the tree:
Gave her a candy cane and a hat and she really loved it~
She loves the tree. After these pictures were taken she started trying to pull everything off the tree because she's now convinced it's candy.
We got snow flurries today. I guess they don't exactly count. Little berry loved them, staring out the window squealing about the "rain!" which is exactly what it turned to. We did Christmas cards last week with her in front of the tree:
Gave her a candy cane and a hat and she really loved it~
She loves the tree. After these pictures were taken she started trying to pull everything off the tree because she's now convinced it's candy.
12/12/09
Lovely finds
I was trawling through bins at the Goodwill last weekend when I came across a whole stack of sweet, great condition vintage children's books. They are so sweet! I've got quite a collection now and am finding a lot of great titles in the local thrift stores.
I keep telling Pappa Starbucks that I will sell them on etsy but once I get them home I always find excuses not to.
Excuses like how sweet is this!!? and oops, this one is a little scuffed up! and well..I don't know how to price them...
This last one, the Shopping Book? It is SO stinkin' cute! It has the best illustrations I've seen in a while, I love it!
Oh, I love vintage story books so! It's a bit of a thrill still to find ones in good condition for inexpensive prices simply because I know how much love they will get around here.
What's your favorite children's book?
I keep telling Pappa Starbucks that I will sell them on etsy but once I get them home I always find excuses not to.
Excuses like how sweet is this!!? and oops, this one is a little scuffed up! and well..I don't know how to price them...
This last one, the Shopping Book? It is SO stinkin' cute! It has the best illustrations I've seen in a while, I love it!
Oh, I love vintage story books so! It's a bit of a thrill still to find ones in good condition for inexpensive prices simply because I know how much love they will get around here.
What's your favorite children's book?
12/4/09
16 months of joy
Today my Little Berry is 16 months old. She's so big, and such a baby all at once.
She is still not much of a morning person (see above photo for proof) but I'm in love with this age, this stage of development, with all of its words and even its frustrations. This morning she got angry ANGRY because she wanted so desperately to dress herself and isn't capable of doing it all at once, she just doesn't have nthe motor skills for it, but you should have seen her try. She was intense, desperate, breathing heavily, picking up her foot with both hands and trying to poke them into her pants. In the end she settled on letting me put the pants on her that she picked out because any other pair? Elicited shrieks.
And she tries to read, pointing at the words on the page, making up garble about them. Everything has a name whether she gets it right or not, but boy oh boy does she try! A few weeks ago she started saying "airplane!" and now everything in the sky- from the moon, sun, birds, clouds, to airplanes themselves are pointed and called out as such.
If we're in the kitchen, she drags over her high chair and waits to be fed, grinning, and making messes with it whenever it's placed in front of her. She's very sensory oriented and specifically, loves feeling, touching things to see what they do.
She rolls her eyes when she doesn't like what we're telling her. She's been doing this for about three weeks and it's simultaneously hysterical and absurd.
I bought a vintage quilt recently at the Goodwill and she has spent so much time while we nurse stroking it, pointing at different images, licking it and right this very moment she has her whole face plastered against my computer screen watching the letters be typed and saying NnnnnOSE!
My girl, she is a joy.
12/1/09
Another day older...
Whew. Another year gone in just a day it seems. I'm always relieved when birthdays pass and my day returns to being just another box on a calendar, marked by slow, forgettable minutes, hours, days of the same routine that is life. In some ways it is sad to know that I will not pinpoint this day in time, remembering the lively sparkle of sunshine on Little Berry's hair as we take our afternoon walk, the smile my daughter flashed at a stranger in a wheel chair, or the kisses she planted on my mouth after I gave her a sip of my cocoa this morning. It is not a memorable day, not a spectacular day, it is only another moment in time lasting as briefly as the last.
But as I watch Pappa Starbucks taking out the trash and little berry fuss over a toy wedged between the cushions, needing a nap for her and a hair-tie to tidy up myself, I do wish that I could steal these moments away and never lose them, never have to wish I could remember that faint dimple on her face or that I could reach out and take her teeny hands inside my own because I would be there, breathing them, living them, smelling over and over again the crest of her perfect tiny head and sweet baby ears, holding her in my lap trying or grabbing me and trying to nurse in the store will be faint memories, but I also know my love for her will stay just as all encompassing as it is today, just as intense, just as perfect, tangible, and frighteningly bright.
That much, I know for sure.
But as I watch Pappa Starbucks taking out the trash and little berry fuss over a toy wedged between the cushions, needing a nap for her and a hair-tie to tidy up myself, I do wish that I could steal these moments away and never lose them, never have to wish I could remember that faint dimple on her face or that I could reach out and take her teeny hands inside my own because I would be there, breathing them, living them, smelling over and over again the crest of her perfect tiny head and sweet baby ears, holding her in my lap trying or grabbing me and trying to nurse in the store will be faint memories, but I also know my love for her will stay just as all encompassing as it is today, just as intense, just as perfect, tangible, and frighteningly bright.
That much, I know for sure.
11/26/09
Thanksgiving
Right now little berry is hard asleep on my lap
in a way she hasn't done since we were in Europe.
I am watching barefoot contessa thanksgiving episodes
and salivating at all the yummy food. The truth is,
I love food. It has given me lots of pleasure over
time but my tastes have changed quite
A bit through time too. When I was littler, I could eat
ham sandwiches with banana slices on them all
day long. Or tomato sandwiches with American
cheese slices. Pappa Starbucks is vegetarian
though, and since we began living together we
both began eating healthier. We go through the vegetables
in this house although they're rarely eaten raw. I used
to eat lots of easy foods and he ate lots of "vegetarian junkfood"
so it's nice to come to enjoy eating healthier
together. On our thanksgiving menu this year is:
roasted carrots
Stuffed mushrooms with vegetarian sausage
Quorn vegetarian turkey
mashed potatoes of course....
bread
cranberry sauce by pappa starbucks
mmmmmmm! Happy thanksgiving!!
in a way she hasn't done since we were in Europe.
I am watching barefoot contessa thanksgiving episodes
and salivating at all the yummy food. The truth is,
I love food. It has given me lots of pleasure over
time but my tastes have changed quite
A bit through time too. When I was littler, I could eat
ham sandwiches with banana slices on them all
day long. Or tomato sandwiches with American
cheese slices. Pappa Starbucks is vegetarian
though, and since we began living together we
both began eating healthier. We go through the vegetables
in this house although they're rarely eaten raw. I used
to eat lots of easy foods and he ate lots of "vegetarian junkfood"
so it's nice to come to enjoy eating healthier
together. On our thanksgiving menu this year is:
roasted carrots
Stuffed mushrooms with vegetarian sausage
Quorn vegetarian turkey
mashed potatoes of course....
bread
cranberry sauce by pappa starbucks
mmmmmmm! Happy thanksgiving!!
11/23/09
From the "archives"
Here are some pictures from this time last year. The first is of Inauguration night at the Governors party. We had just heard that Obama won.
It was so, so loud in that room. Perdue won as well and everyone was laughing, whooping, some crying. It was exciting for us as a family.
This second photo was taken at UNC as Pappa Starbucks picked me up on a friday afternoon. Have you been there in the fall before? It is so beautiful. Springtime, too.
Do you see this precious purple face?
We were struggling so hard with thrush and a cranky baby those days. Today she's well and instead of purple gentian violet stain...
Toothies.
It was so, so loud in that room. Perdue won as well and everyone was laughing, whooping, some crying. It was exciting for us as a family.
This second photo was taken at UNC as Pappa Starbucks picked me up on a friday afternoon. Have you been there in the fall before? It is so beautiful. Springtime, too.
Do you see this precious purple face?
We were struggling so hard with thrush and a cranky baby those days. Today she's well and instead of purple gentian violet stain...
Toothies.
11/13/09
Three Girls
Yesterday my two nieces arrived, bringing with them suitcases of clothes and bags and books, smiles and giggles and silly jokes abound and there hasn't been a five minute stretch yet that wasn't punctuated by some sort of chuckle. We started out this morning with a breakfast of choices, wherein my older niece turned down everything yummy in the favor of toaster waffles. This in my house is the breakfast of "there's nothing else left in the house to eat" and yet it was her first choice. We're knee-high in schoolwork this morning as I spend two days being a homeschooling aunt, and I must say it is pretty great.
To my benefit, they are wonderful children and aim to please. Last night, we sat down and made some sweet felt trees for their mother, a project we didn't get very far on for the dropping of needles and the tangling of thread. I've promised them I would help them make things for all their littlest friends, and I also thought I would share them here.
Here are the trees in minutiae
Here is Mollie Mouse, made my myself. She is seen here in her natural habitat with a wagon of acorns:
And who we call bitty baby and bitty mamma going for a stroll:
and I will leave you with this poem the sweet oldest wrote this morning about Little Berry and Myself:
family
by CBP
[Little Berry]
little, funny
yelling,squealing,laughing
baby,cousin, woman, aunt
sewing,creating,playing
fun, smart
[MammaPie]
I changed our names here in her poem for my own anonymity.
To my benefit, they are wonderful children and aim to please. Last night, we sat down and made some sweet felt trees for their mother, a project we didn't get very far on for the dropping of needles and the tangling of thread. I've promised them I would help them make things for all their littlest friends, and I also thought I would share them here.
Here are the trees in minutiae
Here is Mollie Mouse, made my myself. She is seen here in her natural habitat with a wagon of acorns:
And who we call bitty baby and bitty mamma going for a stroll:
and I will leave you with this poem the sweet oldest wrote this morning about Little Berry and Myself:
family
by CBP
[Little Berry]
little, funny
yelling,squealing,laughing
baby,cousin, woman, aunt
sewing,creating,playing
fun, smart
[MammaPie]
I changed our names here in her poem for my own anonymity.
11/6/09
Friday Faves
I've been saving some links lately and I want to share them with you.
I've been making, making, making!!
I was inspired by these bookmarks
and these tee shirts
I've been making these cloth diapers for Little Berry's babies.
I've been admiring these sweet mousies and making something like these soft baby shoes except felted, and folding these sweet cards to get back in touch with friends...and last but not least, making these perfect box bags
check them out! Get inspired!
10/30/09
Nippy
We made it to the pumpkin patch with the little one. We're in a neighborhood that's not all that festive but we've made an effort, and have a front door that looks ready to greet the hordes. Little Berry loved the pumpkins and kept trying to make off with them all. We haven't carved them yet but it will be done! It will!
It was a bit of an impromptu trip and as such we layered on almost anything we could find and don't look quite the part. I think they would look well in black and white but will enjoy these for now.
It's finally justifiable to say things like "we had roasted squash for dinner last night" and "I am so ready for a cup of tea"
In fact, as I sit here typing this, children scatter back and forth in front of our steps nearly dying from excitement and anticipation, the fireplace is going with a sleeping Little Berry in front of it, and my toes are a teensy bit nippy.
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