Beehive Bazaar Spring 2012

For the past little while things have been busy at our little house.  The laundry and dishes have been piling up while I've been up to my eyes in paper, preparing for this weekend's Beehive Bazaar!  

The Bazaar is a lovely little craft show where a bevy of talented artists come together to sell their wares.  I set up my table last night and already saw so many little things that need to be added to my wish list right away.  Are you in Utah?  Be sure to stop on by and check it out.  The Lily Jane table has new products to share - wall prints and note card sets that aren't even available online yet.  Plus, we're having a Mother's Day sale - 15% off all note card sets - only at the Bazaar.  So add a little shopping to your to-do list for the weekend and pick up a little something for your mom.  Or yourself - you're bound to find something you love.

Abram's Birth: Part III

This is part three of a series detailing my experiences home birthing my son.  Read Part I and Part II of Abram's birth story.

Our wonderful neighbors came to pick Brady up around 11:30 and the house was blessedly quiet.  I’d been in labor for three and a half hours and had reached the point where I did not want to move.  Somehow I’d released my grip on the bookcases to reposition myself perching on the very edge of the couch.  I was focused: don’t-talk-to-me-don’t-look-at-me-and-don’t-even-THINK-about-touching-me focused.  At this point Craig took it upon himself to call our midwife and let her know that I’d tricked her and she needed to come right now!  He pulled out the inflatable tub she had sent over a few weeks prior and started to inflate it.  I wasn’t planning on a water birth, but I wasn’t about to discount something that might help with pain, so we were blowing it up just in case.  By the time he had it blown up, I had migrated across the rug to a kneeling position in front of one of our chairs, gripping it for dear life with my face buried in the seat.  Rebecca knocked just before noon, Craig let her in and she took one look at me and immediately set to work making our home her own and giving instructions to everyone.  “Craig – give up on that tub, there’s no water in it yet and there’s no way you’re going to have it filled up before she’s given birth.  Meredith – lower moans, not so high pitched.  Stay in control.” 

I was starting to push.  Actually, I had started to feel myself pushing when Craig called Rebecca but now I felt an uncontrollable need to push with every single contraction.  So I pushed.  There’s really nothing else you can do at that point no matter what you want.  It only took a couple of contractions and then – pop! – my water broke all over the living room rug. (My perfectionist self actually thought at that moment, “ Dang it!  I’m going to have to wash that!”)  Rebecca grabbed towels upon towels and layered them all over the floor, first under me and then all around and then instructed me to get those pants off or the baby would be born in them.  I was still gripping the chair for dear life and had no inclination to move any additional muscles but I didn’t want my son to be born in my underwear so with her and Craig helping and my cooperation we finally got the pants off.  And it’s a blur from there on out.  All I really remember is mind-numbing contractions, and Craig asking me if I wanted a drink and me cussing at him.  I was going a little bit too quickly (and I was worried about a long labor – ha!) so Rebecca told me to slow down.  I tried but it felt like the baby was hurtling through me anyway because the next thing I knew he was out of me and in Rebecca’s hands. 

I couldn’t see him because my face was still buried in the chair but she calmly mentioned that the cord was wrapped around his neck a couple of times and proceeded to do a few somersaults with his small, slippery body to untangle him.  Then she handed him to me and I got to see my Abram Joseph for the first time.  He was so big and so beautiful: eight pounds and thirteen ounces.  He looked exactly like his brother had but even chunkier.  A glance at the clock told me it was 12:53pm, just shy of five hours since I'd started labor; my fastest delivery yet.  

Craig and Rebecca made a bed of towels, blankets and pillows on the floor and I lay down on it with Abram nestled against my chest.  I lay there staring at my beautiful baby while we waited for the placenta and Rebecca stitched me back together again.  Soon I moved to the couch where Abram found his way to my breast and nursed for the first time.  The creamy, white vernix that had made him so sticky when he was first born was slowly soaking into his skin revealing an unbelievably soft little person. 

When Abram had finished nursing and I had recovered enough, Craig took the baby for some daddy-time and I headed to the shower – my own shower in my own bedroom – to clean up a bit.  I put on some fresh pajamas and climbed into my own bed where little Abe was brought back to me again.  And then I could really look at and fall in love with my tiny man.  He had so much hair!  Soft and brown.  His face looked just like Brady’s had at birth – almost a carbon copy, but his forehead seemed just the slightest bit taller with a large birthmark on the side.  His hands and toes were identical to Craig’s  - crooked second toe and all.  I looked for Lily in him but the only resemblance I found was that they both looked so much like Brady.  I knew when I looked at him that he was his own person.  He was not a replacement for the daughter I had lost but an additional blessing and would grow to be simply himself, completely unique from anyone else.  And I loved that.  

Abram's Birth: Part II

Sorry to leave you hanging, friends.  It's been a rough time learning how to balance all my responsibilities with two kids in tow.  But here is the much-anticipated continuation of Abram's birth story.  There will be one more part after this one, to keep the post from getting too terribly lengthy.

November 18th was cold. Winter was starting to creep in, whether I liked it or not. The good thing was, this meant I was getting closer to my December 3rd due date. I was so done with being pregnant. Every day I secretly hoped that it would be the day this baby would come out. Delivering my last two babies early (Brady three weeks and Lily five weeks) made me a bit impatient, I guess. We were down to two weeks left with this one and I’d started to try encouraging the little man to make his arrival: long walks, deep cleaning the house, spicy foods, you name it. He wasn’t taking the bait, however, and so we had scheduled one last date night for that evening.

We dropped Brady off at our neighbors’ and then headed over to the Cheesecake Factory for dinner. The lobby was packed, which was pretty typical for a Friday night. My gigantic belly seemed to be getting in everybody’s way, no matter how I positioned myself. I was relieved when we were finally seated so I would no longer feel like a road block and because the contractions were making me uncomfortable. I’d been having light contractions very irregularly for a few weeks, just like I had before Lily was born. As hard as I wished for them to become strong and regular and get the ball rolling, they just came and went as they pleased and weren’t anything to make a fuss about.  So we enjoyed our time together and our dinners and ordered cheesecake to go. As we stepped outside to the parking lot, huge beautiful flakes of snow were falling from the sky. Craig went to get the car while I waited by the door and then we headed back home, picking Brady up on the way, to enjoy our cheesecakes in the comfort of sweats and pajamas.

The next morning I was up before everyone else, as usual; my fidgety, restless legs couldn’t take lying still in bed any longer than was absolutely necessary. I headed back to the office to do a little bit of work on the computer where I could get up and wiggle around as much as I wanted. My typical irregular contractions were still there, just like every day for the past few weeks. But by eight o'clock I started to notice that they were actually becoming more regular. About eight to ten minutes apart. “Hmmm,” I thought. “We’ll have to wait and see where this goes…” Craig had to go to the church that morning to help clean and Brady was going with him. He headed out with a promise from me that I’d call him if anything interesting started to happen. I decided to clean up the house, just in case, and by the time they returned at ten o'clock, I was fairly certain: we were having a baby that day.  I was so excited!  But my contractions were still only about eight minutes apart. They were just becoming more intense. It looked like it might end up being a long day.

Still, I started to get some things together for Brady and called the neighbors to let them know what was going on and that he’d be coming over to play for awhile. About halfway through my preparations Craig had to take charge because my contractions were getting too strong for me to focus on much else – especially an excitedly bouncing four year old. But they were still seven to eight minutes apart. Why weren’t they getting any closer together?! I was becoming really concerned and emotional that I was already in so much pain and it seemed like we still had so far to go. I wasn’t sure if I could handle a long labor (again I’ve been spoiled – Brady’s birth was ten hours and Lily’s only six). Craig helped calm me down and I called our midwife, Rebecca, to help calm him down. He was a starting to worry about nobody else being there yet. But I strategically called her between contractions so that she wouldn’t know how much I was hurting. In hindsight that was a bad idea, but at the moment I really thought we still had plenty of time left and I didn't want to rush anybody. Soon, I'd know better.

Stay tuned for Part III of Abram's birth later this week.  And this time I mean it; it's already written and ready to go!  You can read Part I: Why We Chose a Home Birth right here.

The Lodge

When I was a little girl I would spend a portion of each summer in Door County, Wisconsin at a hotel my family owned which we simply called "the lodge."  It was built by my great-great grandfather and remained in the family until just recently.  I have so many childhood memories of the place: giant bonfires on the rocky beach, trekking through the woods to a broken down tree house my sister and I discovered, late nights sitting out on the porch listening to adult banter and the crickets chirping.  I loved that place.

Well, a few weeks ago, my brother - who still lives in Wisconsin - sent out a big box full of old family photos, letters and cards for my sister and I to look through.  Nearly all of them were taken in Door County and bring back so many good memories.  I'm in the process of scanning the stacks of black and white photos into the computer for safe keeping and thought I'd share a few of my favorites with you. 

I love looking through old photos - they bring life to people I never knew and help me feel connected to a long line of rich history.  I plan to hang some of these in my office to remind me of those happy memories. 

Do you have a place from your childhood that always makes you smile?

 Images from the family collection

DIY: Be My Funny Valentine

In my quest to create three unique valentines this year, I stumbled across another thing Brady loves right now: some valentine-themed jokes.  There is nothing funnier to him than a good knock-knock joke.  So, for Valentine No. 2, I decided to make some microphone bookmarks with a joke on the back so the kids could be little stand-up comedians. When they're done making their friends peel over with laughter, they'll have a fun bookmark, to boot!

You can download the files here: front, back-page-one and back-page-two (each back has different jokes).  Print the front first, then insert the printed page opposite of how it was originally and print the back.  You may want to do a few practice runs until you become familiar with how your printer handles the paper.  For my bookmarks, I used 80# cardstock, punched an 1/8" hole in the bottom of the microphone, and threaded some black embroidery floss through for the cord.  

Do you have any funny (and clean, please!) jokes for Valentine's day?  Please share in the comments!

See Valentine No. 1 and Valentine No. 3

DIY: Cereal Valentines

We have three Valentine parties to attend this year.  And some of the same friends will be at all of them.  Which means we need three different Valentines to give.  I wanted to branch out from the standard conversation hearts and red hots to come up with something fun and witty that Brady would enjoy giving and helping me make. 

While perusing Pinterest, I spotted this idea and knew I'd struck gold.  Brady loves cereal, to the point of not wanting to go to sleep because between bedtime and breakfast seems like an eternity to him.  A cereal valentine was perfect for Valentine No. 1, but I wanted them to have a cleaner look.  And some catchy little phrases.  So Brady and I put our heads together and came up with this.  

I made labels for each of the eight boxes of cereal included in the regular General Mills mini pack.  You can print them right here.  Just wrap your boxes in kraft paper (5.5" x 10") and secure with double stick tape.  Then trim your valentine cereal labels on the dotted line, center the label and secure with another piece of tape.  Tie a small wooden spoon to the side of the box using some red baker's twine, and voila!  You're ready to get your sweetheart on.  Enjoy!

• You have a heart of Gold - Golden Grahams


• I'm not playing Trix.  I really like you.  - Trix


• You are my Lucky Charm. - Lucky Charms


• I like you Oh so much! - Cheerios (all three varieties)


• You make my heart Swirl - Cinnamon Toast Crunch


• I'm Cuckoo for you. - Cocoa Puffs

See Valentine No. 2 and Valentine No. 3

Abram's Birth: Part I

I've decided to break Abram's birth story into two parts.  Part I: Why We Chose a Home Birth and Part II: The Birth Story.

Hello, my dears.  Happy Monday!  Maybe it’s the fact that I got to do some yoga this morning before the kids woke up, actually cooked breakfast (yes, it was Cream of Wheat, but still), and somehow managed to get Brady off to school without the usual hectic chaos - but today is feeling grand.  I’m in the mood to accomplish loads of things.  And eager to finally tell you Abram’s birth story.

Abram was born at home.  We chose to do this, instead of a hospital birth, for a few reasons.  First, I knew I wanted a natural birth.  When Brady was born, I eagerly took the epidural when they offered it.  And it was a lovely, pain-free birth.  The only thing was, when the anesthesiologist had come in and inserted the needle into my back he had said, “oh!”  Having a medical professional say, “oh!” while they're working on you is usually not a good sign.  Later, I found that the needle had punctured my epidural space (which I was told was unexpectedly tiny) and I became victim to some killer spinal headaches.  Once at home, recovery progressed rather slowly, too.   

So when I learned that my daughter, Lily, was going to be born with some problems, I opted out for the epidural.  There was a good chance I would have complications again due to my tiny epidural space and I wanted a fast recovery.  More importantly, I needed to know that she was clear of any drugs so they could accurately assess her abilities and health at birth.  Thankfully, Lily’s birth was wonderfully easy.  Oh, it definitely hurt but endorphins are fabulous things:  I felt fantastic within minutes of giving birth to her. 

Having such a positive experience with Lily's birth made going natural again with Abram a no-brainer.  But I’d heard that it could be really difficult to not have any interventions if giving birth in the hospital.  I’d arrived at the hospital doors about 15 minutes before Lily was born, so I didn’t know for myself; there wasn’t time to intervene!  We had our fingers crossed it wouldn’t be quite so rushed this time around.

I decided to read up on home births and research the statistics to make sure it was a safe option for our family.  The more I read, the more I became convinced that it was the right thing for us.  I found a wonderful midwife and began visiting her for my monthly checkups, bringing Brady along with me.  It was the best experience to have a care provider that knew my entire family.  She treated Brady like a grandchild and he always looked forward to visiting her office.

As for me, I looked forward to having a delivery that was free of a crazy last-minute drive to the hospital; where just my husband, the midwife and I could deliver our child; where my oldest could meet his baby brother as soon after as I wanted.  I looked forward to uninterrupted sleep in my own bed the night after the birth.  And I looked forward to giving a child life in the same place where my baby girl had left us two years before.

Stay tuned for Part II of Abram's birth story later this week.  Tomorrow, I'm going to have some Valentine's freebies just for you, my lovely readers.  See you then!

Photos by Craig and me

Counting Blessings

The end of 2011 was a little bit crazy for us.  I count myself lucky that I managed to get all the presents wrapped and under the tree before Christmas morning.  Sending out Christmas cards became a project I simply had to drop.  Instead, I hoped to put together a New Year's card to send out in January.  And luckily, that's just what happened.

I was inspired by the thought of counting our blessings, since 2011 was a year full of wonderful moments and events for our family.  Craig and I sat down and chatted about the things that made up the majority of our year, then I set to work quantifying them.  In the end, we had events that, when the numbers were added together, summed up to 2011.  I made four little illustrations to give some color to our card.  And, saving the best for last, we also included a photo of the boys - because the photos are everyone's favorite part of receiving a holiday card.  

It was a fun little project that I hope our friends and family enjoyed.  And, of course, I want to send the same wishes out to all of you, dear friends: here's to countless blessings and a bright 2012!

PS - We turned that photo of the boys into magnets for grandparents and such.  They turned out so wonderfully, that I'm planning on making it an annual thing.

photos by me

A Whirlwind

Hello, again!  I'm so glad to be back here blogging today.  It's been a long time - yikes!  The past few months have been...well, let's call them time-consuming, shall we?  From November 19th, when baby Abram was born, until just now has been a whirlwind of feeding, rocking, shushing, feeding some more, sleepless nights, and days spent with a Baby Bjorn strapped to my torso.  We love this darling baby, but he has definitely been a high-maintenance kid.  

Luckily, things have started to brighten up; meaning, he's starting to sleep in his bassinet for longer periods.  So now, however briefly, I can sit down here and do a few things!  I have so many projects to share with you from the past couple of months, including the story of Abram's planned home-birth.  Tomorrow, I'll start with how we welcomed in the new year. 

What about you, my dears?  Has your bundle of joy ever been colicky?  How did you cope?  

photos taken on my iPhone