Yippee!!
I've sold something on Etsy! An order came in this afternoon for a sign for a little girl named Maisie. I can't wait to get Hank to bed tonight so I can get cranking on it.
I haven't been working much on my shop -- in that I have hardly been doing any promotion, so I am psyched to finally get a sale. It gives me more incentive to execute some of the ideas that have been floating around in my head; mainly several marketing things I've been thinking about but haven't done. I also need to take photographs of everything I've made in the last couple of weeks (Blankies!! Blocks!! Stuffed animals!!) and write some new listings. Very fun.
I've also been working on a recipe for baby lotion and baby powder. I learned how to make body butter a couple of weeks ago and got really fired up about bath products. I had no idea how simple it is to make safe, natural bath products. Since Hank was born I've been trying to get the pthalates out of our home, which is what inspired me to try making a couple of things myself. I was surprised by how interesting I've found the learning process.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Nine in, Nine out
Hank turned nine months old today! From here on out, he will be on the outside longer than he was on the inside. Nine in, nine out.
I've been giving a lot of thought to this concept of 'nine in, nine out' -- the idea that it takes nine months on the inside to create the baby, and nine months of 'extrogestation' on the outside to finish the baby off. I think nine in, nine out should also include the idea that it takes that second nine month period for the mom to feel like herself again and for the parents to really adjust to their new roles.
As far as I'm concerned, there was a moment about a week ago when I felt like I had finally really recovered from pregnancy. I realized that I finally feel like myself, physically; have the energy I used to have; and have a mental and emotional clarity that seemed to have been fogged over for quite a long time, between the stress of pregnancy and the sleep deprivation of motherhood. I feel like I don't need to panic or stress out or over analyze every thing that Hank is doing anymore -- instead I feel like whatever is going to happen, is whatever is going to happen, and we can handle things as they come. The constant changeability of parenthood seems to be less of a challenge to me now -- rather it just is our new normal, and the fact that the status quo around here constantly changes is, in and of itself, a consistency that I am finally comfortable with.
(well, I'm comfortable with it for now!)
As for the baby, well, in some ways it feels as though he really is fully cooked, now that he's been out for nine months, that he can stop being 'a baby' and start becoming a boy, a man. He seems in so many ways not a baby any longer, but a tiny human. And while I can look at him and recognize that he is the same baby that he was, he's almost unrecognizable at the same time. In the last couple of weeks he's clearly begun to express opinions, preferences, dislikes. He waves and asks for milk with sign language. He speaks to us in distinct syllables that reflect what he's feeling. 'Muh muh muh muh', when he's sad or anxious. 'Deh, deh, deet, deet, dah', when he's happy. 'Ba ba ba ba ba', when content and engrossed in something. 'Bwuh, bwuh, bwuh, bwuh', when he's crying. When he stands at his gate, or at his toy shelves, he sometimes shoots me a look as if to say 'uh, mom, you wanna give me some space, please?'. I'll often notice things have gotten too quite and I'll come in to find him sitting in front of his toy basket, removing each toy carefully, methodically inspecting each one, and setting them each aside.
We've been watching a lot of the Olympic coverage, and I've found myself surprised to be looking at these athletes, especially the males, and thinking of them as Someone's Son, and watching the parents in the stands looking on, and finding that I can sort of imagine how proud they must be of their kids. We feel such pride for Hank's tiny accomplishments like learning to 'clap hands!', that I get weak in the knees thinking how proud I am going to be of him at his bigger accomplishments in life, whatever they may be. Sky's the limit, kid. Right?
I've been giving a lot of thought to this concept of 'nine in, nine out' -- the idea that it takes nine months on the inside to create the baby, and nine months of 'extrogestation' on the outside to finish the baby off. I think nine in, nine out should also include the idea that it takes that second nine month period for the mom to feel like herself again and for the parents to really adjust to their new roles.
As far as I'm concerned, there was a moment about a week ago when I felt like I had finally really recovered from pregnancy. I realized that I finally feel like myself, physically; have the energy I used to have; and have a mental and emotional clarity that seemed to have been fogged over for quite a long time, between the stress of pregnancy and the sleep deprivation of motherhood. I feel like I don't need to panic or stress out or over analyze every thing that Hank is doing anymore -- instead I feel like whatever is going to happen, is whatever is going to happen, and we can handle things as they come. The constant changeability of parenthood seems to be less of a challenge to me now -- rather it just is our new normal, and the fact that the status quo around here constantly changes is, in and of itself, a consistency that I am finally comfortable with.
(well, I'm comfortable with it for now!)
As for the baby, well, in some ways it feels as though he really is fully cooked, now that he's been out for nine months, that he can stop being 'a baby' and start becoming a boy, a man. He seems in so many ways not a baby any longer, but a tiny human. And while I can look at him and recognize that he is the same baby that he was, he's almost unrecognizable at the same time. In the last couple of weeks he's clearly begun to express opinions, preferences, dislikes. He waves and asks for milk with sign language. He speaks to us in distinct syllables that reflect what he's feeling. 'Muh muh muh muh', when he's sad or anxious. 'Deh, deh, deet, deet, dah', when he's happy. 'Ba ba ba ba ba', when content and engrossed in something. 'Bwuh, bwuh, bwuh, bwuh', when he's crying. When he stands at his gate, or at his toy shelves, he sometimes shoots me a look as if to say 'uh, mom, you wanna give me some space, please?'. I'll often notice things have gotten too quite and I'll come in to find him sitting in front of his toy basket, removing each toy carefully, methodically inspecting each one, and setting them each aside.
We've been watching a lot of the Olympic coverage, and I've found myself surprised to be looking at these athletes, especially the males, and thinking of them as Someone's Son, and watching the parents in the stands looking on, and finding that I can sort of imagine how proud they must be of their kids. We feel such pride for Hank's tiny accomplishments like learning to 'clap hands!', that I get weak in the knees thinking how proud I am going to be of him at his bigger accomplishments in life, whatever they may be. Sky's the limit, kid. Right?
Manhunt!
Some neighbors are going to come home tonight to find their cars have been totalled by some local punks who were driving (what we can only begin to guess was) a stolen car. This afternoon we heard a huge car crash. Henry dashed outside to take a look and by the time we got halfway down the block to where the crash had taken place, half the neighborhood was out trying to figure out what was going on. Several people said they saw three guys running up the street, away from the car, obviously trying to make a break for it. They had been driving their car up the street from the Lake, blew through the stop sign at our intersection, hit a bump in the road and spun out, doing a 180, and taking out a couple of cars parked on the street. One of them, and SUV, was somehow pushed up on to the sidewalk and partway into the yard of the house that we think is owned by the local catholic parish. Its back hatch had flown open and the front end was completely demolished. The stolen car looked like it had been totalled. The airbags went off and the back window was blown out. It was a total mess.
The cops came and sealed off our block because someone said that they saw the kids run off to the next street over, that one had a gun, and they were hiding in the bushes in front of another house. (This was my cue to take Hank back inside). Helicopters circled for a good hour.
Henry just went out to try to get some pictures, and said that the owner of the SUV was there, trying to clean up his stuff, and the cops were still out, and they said that they hadn't been able to find the car thieves.
Ahh, the excitement... when are we moving to the suburbs, again?
The cops came and sealed off our block because someone said that they saw the kids run off to the next street over, that one had a gun, and they were hiding in the bushes in front of another house. (This was my cue to take Hank back inside). Helicopters circled for a good hour.
Henry just went out to try to get some pictures, and said that the owner of the SUV was there, trying to clean up his stuff, and the cops were still out, and they said that they hadn't been able to find the car thieves.
Ahh, the excitement... when are we moving to the suburbs, again?
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