No-Sew Fleece Blanket; a Toy-Free Birthday Gift

In the month of March this year, my kids were invited to five birthday parties. FIVE! Three of them were all in one weekend! In April they were invited to three. Two birthdays in July and then two again in August. Birthday kids varied in ages, from three all the way up to age nine. Some were close friends, some were school acquaintances. We didn’t have a ton to spend on these multiple birthday gifts and I have been striving to have less toys in our kids’ lives, so I somewhat vowed to myself not to buy toys as birthday gifts… which is a lot easier said than done, especially for younger kids.

Instead I decided to to make fleece blankets for the first month of birthdays and from then on, we were hooked. Depending on the age of the kid, we usually bought one and a half yards of no-pill fleece in two colors or patterns. The top layer is always a favorite character or some genre they’re into at the moment (Star Wars, Paw Patrol, Minecraft, or just unicorns, puppies, or a favorite sports team). There are LOADS of choices in fleece patterns. A quick text to a mom or dad helps us choose too. For the bottom layer, we chose a solid color that compliments the pattern. For the birthday kids who were turning nine, we got two full yards so they could have a slightly bigger blanket. With coupons, the fabric ends up costing between $20 and $30 per blanket. I’m sure if I planned ahead better, I could get an even better deal.

For three of the birthdays, the pre-cut, no-sew fleece blanket kits that you can find at craft and fabric stores happened to be on sale for 40% or 50% off, so a few times we opted for those. They ended up being $15-$20 with sales or a coupon.

JoAnn’s is my first choice for fabric when it’s time to make a blanket. I choose not to shop at Hobby Lobby and we don’t have many other fabric stores where we live. Plus, JoAnn’s often has great deals through sales or coupons.

Materials Needed:

• 2 pieces of no-pill, polyester fleece, size is up to you. I like 1.5 to 2 yards for a great kid-sized throw. For an adult, I may opt for 3 yards.

• 1 pair of very sharp scissors (I recommend having a pair ONLY for fabric. I have like 3, but you do you)

Step 1: Choose your fabric.

Step 2: Lay them out, stacked on top of each other and trim any edges so they’re the same size. If one or both of the fabrics are patterned, make sure the RIGHT sides are facing out.

Step 3: Cut a 4 inch square from all four corners. You can cut a piece of cardboard to use as a guide if you want, but I have always just eyeballed it based on the knowledge that my fabric scissors blades are about five inches long.

Step 4: Cut a 4 inch fringe along the sides, through both layers of fabric, all the way around the blanket. They should be about 1 inch wide and 4 inches long. Use your corner cuts as a guide. If you would prefer to use a ruler to make sure your cuts are precise, that’s totally up to you.

Step 5: There are lots of different ways to tie the ends. I usually take the stacked fringe pieces and tie a square knot, tying the two layers of fabric together. You can do a balloon knot like done here or once I did a braid-like tie like this (although I cut the fringe longer than they did). This video on YouTube shows four different ways you can tie off the fringe depending on what look you want. The choice is yours.

Most importantly, my kids really love giving a gift that they helped make. Of course, now we need to think of something new to give if we’re invited to the same kids’ birthdays next year!

Alex's First Day of Freedom

It’s September 2nd and summer has flown by in a flash. This year I tried my best to pack our summer with as much fun and adventure as possible while squeezing some contract work in the crevices between travel, camping, hiking, biking, swimming, and sleeping in. We spent a week with family in California. We camped and hiked with friends. We went on bike rides (which are way more fun now that I actually have a bike!). We had a real, week-long vacation in Lake Tahoe (the first in many years). We spent lazy Sundays fishing in high mountain lakes with Daddy. We had shave ice dates, frozen custard dates, gelato dates, and lots of swimming play dates.

Now school is back in session and my youngest and last baby started kindergarten! Since I make a sign for both of my kids every year, I figured that after eight years of being a WAHM (work-at-home-mom) I deserved one for myself. In case you can’t zoom in, it discusses how I would like to be on vacation when I grow up. My favorite foods are anything I don’t have to share and hard lemonade. My hobbies include quiet time, hiking, reading, cooking alone, and anything without an audience. My teachers are Netflix and Amazon and I’m 40 years young. I thought it was fitting to take the photo from my hammock overlooking a beautiful alpine lake… which is where we spent the whole Sunday before the first day of school.

Next summer I’ll add this sign to my Etsy shop so fellow parents can have a sign of their own.

All summer my youngest has had nothing but positive things to say about how awesome kindergarten would be and I’m so happy that his first full week lived up to the hype. Every day he came home tired, but ready for another day of fun.

My kindergartener is kind and smart and quick to laugh off scrapes of bumps that might slow him down, but fully admits that a BandAid will take the pain away. He loves Crocs, Lego, Paw Patrol and anything his big brother is into. He often narrates whatever he’s doing or playing with and when asked who he’s talking to, he’ll tell you he’s narrating a YouTube video for his subscribers. He loves taekwondo and his flexibility allows him to kick higher than his own head , much to his brother’s chagrin.

My oldest started fourth grade and is really excited for what this year will have to offer. He is so smart and wants to know EVERYTHING and show everyone that he knows EVERYTHING. We joke that he’ll be a Jeopardy! champion some day. He continues to train in taekwondo every week and is currently one belt below a black belt. He will be eligible to test for his black belt next year. He loves history and we watch YouTube videos about random history together and discuss the historic places we can visit. He also loves to play soccer and run cross country. He adores fishing and camping and has rather suddenly fallen in love with exotic cars. He is also becoming a foodie and loves to cook and try new foods.

Since my printer is down at the moment, I had all of our signs printed on card stock at my local Office Depot (it was less than $2 total). They did an amazing job and in photos they almost look like real chalkboards. These signs are available in my Etsy shop in the summer and ready to be customized for your kids.

Happy first day!!

Galaxy Dyed Vans

My oldest son finished third grade this past spring and that year was the first time I had been able to volunteer in his class with any regularity. I volunteered once a week when they attended art class and I was able to get to know a few of the students and learn a little about third grade dynamics. This is the gist of what I learned:

• Third graders are still emotionally sensitive. They want to be cool, but they still suffer from the emotional instability that plagued them at the magical age of seven.

• Third graders aren’t quite old enough to believe that everything is stupid… yet. But they’re getting close.

• Third graders can be really mean!

It was so fun to be able to help out when I could and I hope I’m able to join his fourth grade class as often as I can in the fall.

A while back, my son had it in his head that he needed more expensive shoes. Supposedly, a kid in his class declared that his Keen shoes were “dollar store shoes,” and that cool kids only wear expensive shoes. Ugh.

First, I reminded him that we actually can’t buy him super cheap shoes anymore because he’ll rip through them faster than you can even say the words “Dollar Store.” Second, I explained to him that how much a pair of shoes costs means absolutely squat. What matters is if they fit comfortably, look good to you, and keep your feet dry. And it’s nice if they last a while, or at least until they’re outgrown.

Their teacher reprimanded the kid who tried to make others feel bad if they didn’t have $100+ shoes, but I did my own little passive-aggressive comeback (with my son’s blessing, of course). I made him some custom-dyed Vans.

Vans are ALL the rage among kids from elementary school all through high school. I have to admit that it makes me chuckle to see teenagers wearing the exact same pair of checkerboard Vans I’m wearing. I wear them because I like how they look and they’re slip-on, and I LOVED them when I was a kid.

We bought some plain white Vans from Journeys earlier this month and I galaxy-dyed them in green and blue, my son’s favorite colors. I used fiber-reactive dye from Dharma Trading and a similar technique that I use for galaxy-dyed clothes and baby carrier. They ended up being quite a pain to rinse, the dye inside the soles was tough to get out. I also did my best to mask off the white rubber to prevent them from being stained by the dye. Lastly, I masked off the rubber and labels when I painted stars with fabric paint.

I really love how they turned out and so does my son. Apparently a few of his friends want a pair now. #momwin

10 Ways to Support a Friend Dealing with Infertility

*I wrote this post in the summer of 2013 when I was in the thick of trying to get pregnant with my youngest son. I was processing my feelings and writing them for a parenting blog I ran at the time. Since that blog no longer exists, I had a bunch of posts that I wanted to save because the writing I did back then served as great therapy for me at the time. This is one of them.

No matter how long it takes a couple to conceive a child, if it doesn’t happen by surprise or within a couple of months, doubt starts to creep in. And let me tell you, having to actually try to get pregnant can really suck. It doesn’t matter if it takes four months or four years; the uncertainty, frustration, doubt, and self-loathing can eat away at you.

As uterus-owners, we automatically wonder if there’s something wrong with our bodies. Everywhere we look we see pregnant folks and new babies where we didn’t notice them before.

What’s a person to do when their friend or family member is dealing with infertility? How can you support them without sticking your foot in your mouth? It’s often a subject that is difficult to talk about when one isn’t necessarily educated on the subject. It’s so easy to say the wrong thing and cause some very hurt feelings.

1. If you aren’t sure if your friend wants to talk about their infertility woes, ASK THEM. For me personally, I didn’t mind talking about it and I didn’t mind if a friend brought up the subject of my infertility. Talking about it helped vent frustrations. But I rarely brought it up because I got a distinct vibe of “uncomfortableness” from friends and family when I did. This often leads to someone feeling like they’re going through it alone.

2. Listen and let them know you care. Just be empathetic, “I am so sorry you are dealing with this.” Avoiding or always changing the subject only makes your friend feel alienated. If you know that they are cool with talking about their infertility journey, then ask them how it’s going from time to time. You aren’t asking how their sex life is going, you’re inquiring as to their emotional state and what steps they may be taking to help the process along. How are they dealing? Do they want to talk about it? If you know they had an appointment with a doctor, ask how it went. Trying a new herbal tea or acupuncture? Ask how it’s going.

3. Don’t diss on whatever treatment your friend is doing or thinking about trying. Whether it’s acupuncture, IUI, herbal supplements, IVF, injectable hormones, chiropractic, diet changes, or whatever… deciding to get help with infertility is a very personal decision for a couple and it’s never a decision come to quickly and easily. Please respect that.

4. Don’t say hurtful things. There are SO many comments that are made when people are trying to help, but these comments can cut so deep. Here are just a few of the very common phrases that are said to people dealing with infertility. Please don’t say any of these:

• Stop trying and it’ll happen. If you paid attention in sex education, then you would know that this isn’t physically possible for a uterus-owner who knows their cycle and knows when they’re ovulating… unless… immaculate conception?

• You just need to relax. Aw, why didn’t I think of that?!

• You don’t look infertile! What exactly does an infertile person look like?

• Just adopt! Adoption isn’t for everyone and can be a very long and expensive process.

• Don’t worry, you’re young! What does that mean?! Are you suggesting I’m not meant to have a baby now? Have I been wasting my time trying so far? Plus, if not pregnant equals young, does pregnant equal old? If I get pregnant now, I will be “advanced maternal age” and considered high risk by most OBs. How’s that for hypocrisy?!

• Maybe God doesn’t think you’ll make a good parent. Ouch. Since when do people have to be good parents to have children? I look on YouTube and see plenty of examples that contradict that statement. And did God personally tell you this? If not, please don’t speak for them.

5. Educate yourself. If you want to be SUPER supportive, pick up a copy of Taking Charge of Your Fertility and read up if you aren’t well versed on how amazing fertility cycles are. You can also visit FertilityFriend and read some articles on the subject. This way you know what the heck your friend is talking about when they mention progesterone, luteal phase, and strange acronyms like OPK, EWCM and FMU.

6. Respect that miscarriages are losses. Don’t make excuses and tell your friend “It wasn’t meant to be.” As soon as someone trying to conceive sees a positive pregnancy test, the joy and excitement begins immediately. Miscarriage is a death; the death of a tiny ball of cells and the death of the future they had imagined for their baby, even if it was only for a few short weeks. Their body is flooded with hormones and there is a physical process that comes with a miscarriage that painfully reminds them just how NOT pregnant they are.

Tell them that you are sorry and that you are there for them. Let them talk, let them cry. Ask if there is anything you can do to help… even if it’s just to walk a dog, do a load of laundry, or bring over a box of chocolates.

7. Respect that Secondary Infertility is just as hard, if not harder for many. When someone has a baby (or two, or more) and then suffers from infertility when trying to conceive another, some argue that it can be even more frustrating than the first time around. Our bodies physically ache, yearning to feel the kicks and the hiccups once more. The sound of a newborn’s cry can make our breasts tingle to be full of milk. Our bodies already know how to conceive, grow and birth a child… you’d think we’d be able to do it again. Sometimes we’re not.

Never, ever suggest that they’re being ungrateful for the child they already have. That is likely an emotion they’re struggling with already. Just be the loving and listening friend that you are and offer to babysit from time to time if they needs to visit an RE, fertility doctor, or acupuncturist. Kids are very rarely welcome in the waiting room of an RE’s office… for good reason.

8. Be sensitive to their feelings when friends, family members, or even you become pregnant. But don’t try to hide a new pregnancy from your friend. It’s different for everyone and for every pregnancy. When many friends of mine got pregnant, I was thrilled for them and cried tears of joy when their new babies were born. But for some reason, other friends’ pregnancies were harder for me and I had to hide their baby bump photos from my social media feeds. I don’t know how to describe why some were okay and some weren’t. They just were.

If you get pregnant and are faced with telling your infertile friend, tell them separately from the rest of your friends and family. And tell them that you understand that it might mean they can’t be around you for a little while. Tell them that you love them and are there for them. Let your friend decide how much baby and pregnancy-related stuff they can handle being around.

9. Keep inviting your friend to social gatherings; baby showers and birthdays too. Even if they say no every time, keep inviting them. Eventually they’ll be in the right head space to be there. Don’t make them feel isolated.

10. Light a candle, say a prayer, and send good thoughts out into the universe for your friend. Nuff said.

M's Birth Story

Image by Jessica Kay Photography

Since I went into labor with my first baby at 37.5 weeks, I wasn’t sure what to expect with my second. Both my husband and I had it in our heads that Easter weekend was going to be when this little guy decided to make his appearance… for no reason other than intuition.

37 and 38 weeks came and went and I found myself in uncharted territory. I was uncomfortable, none of my maternity clothes really fit anymore, my body ached and I was really getting tired. I finally understood what it meant to be “done” with pregnancy… a feeling I’d never experienced with my first. My loving husband bought me a gift certificate for a couple of prenatal massages and they really helped me get through those feelings at the end of my pregnancy. Seriously, all mamas should have at least one in the third trimester!

Saturday morning (38w, 5d, the day before Easter) I woke up to some contractions that were significantly different than any of the Braxton Hicks contractions I’d been having. They were incredibly low in my abdomen and in my lower back. They were uncomfortable, and only occasionally painful. I knew this could be it, but I just went about my morning as chill as I could. My husband was at a sharpshooting match that morning and politely requested I hold off any labor until he got home. My son TJ, who’s 4.5, requested that I not have his little brother on Easter because he was going to be “busy looking for eggs” that day. I laughed at both of them.

Image by Cari Hollis Photography

These new contractions were about 20-30 seconds long and ranged from 5 to 15 minutes apart. By lunchtime they fizzled out and I was only having one every half an hour or so. I ate lunch, drank some water and I took a nap when TJ napped and I didn’t have any contractions then.

After our naps and after my husband came home, the contractions picked up again. I let him know what was happening, but that I really wasn’t sure if this was it. I took a long shower and drank more water. Before dinner, contractions were 5 to 7 minutes apart, but still only 30-40 seconds long, and the majority of them were very manageable. I sent text messages to my midwife and birth photographer to let them know what was going on. My husband got our truck packed and the infant car seat installed. He thought this was go-time, even though I wasn’t convinced.

After dinner, my mother-in-law put our 4.5 year old son to bed while my husband and I went for a walk around the block. The contractions had started to space out again and I hoped the walk would kick things into gear. We walked for about 25 minutes when I got tired and decided I was just going to go to bed. The walk didn’t work and contractions were now 20 to 30 minutes apart and getting weaker.

I was discouraged and sent text messages to my midwife and photographer telling them I was going to bed and that I’d let them know if anything changed.

We all went to bed and I fully expected to wake up in the morning to a new day, an Easter egg hunt with TJ, and maybe some more contractions. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

About two hours later (about 1:45 am) I woke up to go pee and had a super strong contraction while walking to the bathroom. While sitting on the toilet I continued to have contractions that were only a couple of minutes apart and lasting well over a minute. I had to focus and concentrate on my breathing through them all.

After a few of them, I felt a small pop and some fluid trickling. I immediately knew that my water had broken. It wasn’t a huge gush, but a trickle every time I had a contraction.

My husband came into the bathroom to check on me and I told him that we needed to call the midwife and get going right now. This was the real deal and I had no idea how quick this was going to be.

He went downstairs to wake up TJ and his mom and get them dressed and into the truck while I tried my damnedest to get my butt off the toilet. It took a lot of willpower to get up, get some clothes on and physically get myself into the truck with contractions only a couple of minutes apart. My husband followed me down the stairs with his hands on my lower back the whole way.

The 15 minute drive to The Birth Center sucked, but I was thankful to have a few minutes between contractions. I can tell you exactly which bumps in the road made me swear under my breath while my 4.5 year old was happily chatting behind me. He was so excited that this was happening in the middle of the night, something he’d requested.

During the drive, I was texting my birth photographer to let her know we were on our way and we debated having her meet us there or wait until I’d had a cervical exam to come. Waiting until my cervix was checked made the most sense to me, so I told her we’d text her after I was checked. Yeah, I regret that decision.

We pulled into the birth center just as my midwife and assistant arrived. She rushed upstairs to get things ready while I slowly got myself out of the truck. I had a contraction that almost brought me to my knees right there in the parking lot but my husband held on to me and kept me focused.

I got into the birthing room, stripped off my skirt and undies and worked my way onto the bed so my midwife could check my cervix. The second midwife arrived a minute later and I heard someone turn on the water to start filling up the tub. I had one powerful contraction while laying down before she could examine me, then she was super quick with her exam. I was 9cm!

As soon as that registered in my head I asked my husband to text the photographer. Before he could hit Send, the next contraction started and I quickly shouted for my husband and the birth assistant to help me up onto my hands and knees; I couldn’t handle another contraction while laying on the bed.

That contraction literally rocked me and my body was pushing. I shouted that I felt “pushy” and I put my hand between my legs in some sort of futile effort to stop the pushing. I felt my son’s head crown almost immediately and it took every ounce of strength I had to slow down that push so his head didn’t come out too fast. I was literally gasping for breath to gain a tiny bit of control over my body as both midwives and the assistant were looking for a mirror and a flashlight to see what was going on. I really, really didn’t want to tear! My husband had his arm around me and I buried my face into his shoulder, willing my body to slow down.

I was somehow able to ease my son’s head out slowly when the contraction finally ended and I had a moment of relief. I felt the next contraction begin and warned everyone that it was coming. His shoulders eased out and the rest of him followed. I picked him up and brought his slimy, squirmy body right to my chest and I’m pretty sure I looked up at everyone and said, “wow!”

Image by Earthside Photography

With some help, I took off the tank top I had been wearing, rocked back onto the bed and snuggled with my brand new son. TJ came over to check out his baby brother and I asked him what he thought; he had watched the whole thing from across the room. He said it was pretty cool.

From the time we arrived at the birth center to the time M was born was approximately 15 minutes!

A couple of minutes later our photographer arrived. I felt SO bad that she missed his fast and furious birth. If only I had told her to just come when we first arrived!

Image by Earthside Photography

We all snuggled together while she shot some photos, I delivered my placenta and my husband cut the umbilical cord. And happily, no tearing!

Image by Earthside Photography

After about two hours, my midwife was getting a little concerned that my uterus was taking its sweet time to clamp down and she was keeping a close eye on my blood loss. She said my placenta had come out backward and she was concerned that a couple of pieces were still in my uterus… something that can happen when the placenta comes out that way. Some poking and prodding wasn’t helping so she started a saline IV and gave me a shot of Pitocin in the leg to see if that helped. It didn’t really, so I was given a dose of Misoprostol orally as well. Misoprostol is also known as Cytotec and is often used for hospital inductions. It’s pretty well known for it’s use to help stop postpartum hemorrhaging, too.

It had been about two and a half hours since my son had been born and my body was still bleeding at a steady trickle.

Image by Earthside Photography

We had a decision to make. My midwife could try to manually extract clots or retained placenta from my uterus and see if that did the trick. It’s a very painful procedure, and she really didn’t think anyone should go through it without pain medication. I wasn’t hemorrhaging terribly, but it was getting to the point where we didn’t want this to turn into an emergency situation.

The other option would be to transfer to the local hospital via ambulance, have an ultrasound to see what was going on and go from there. The OB could do a manual extraction of any clots or retained placenta with pain meds for me. And if a D&C or a blood transfusion was needed, we’d already be there to get it going.

As much as it pained me to admit, transferring to the hospital was really the best option. M was quickly weighed and measured and a quick newborn exam was done while an ambulance was called for me and we got the process going. Since I wasn’t hemorrhaging profusely, lights and sirens weren’t needed, much to my older son’s chagrin.

In the ER I was given another bag of fluids along with some more Pitocin and the on-call OB came down to do an ultrasound. She saw that there were some big clots in the lower part of my uterus and she was confident that she could extract them manually. If the bleeding stopped then I’d be able to avoid a D&C and hopefully go home later that day.

And, thankfully, that’s exactly what happened.

We transferred to L&D, I was given a dose of Fentanyl and she manually extracted some clots from my uterus. It was not pleasant at all, but she worked very quickly and I was feeling a LOT better about 20 minutes later. I was very grateful that my body was handling the blood loss really well. I was very pale and a little shaky (also a side effect of the Misoprostol), but I never felt dizzy or lightheaded or had a drop in my blood pressure. I even got up to use the bathroom a few times and didn’t pass out. After all was said and done, I had lost over a liter of blood.

My blood loss was monitored for a few hours along with any signs of infection, and by 3pm that same day, I was discharged and heading home.

The folks at the hospital were really wonderful and every time a new resident, nurse or doctor introduced themselves, they apologized that I had to be there at all; understanding that the whole point of delivering at a birth center was to skip the hospital all together.

In hindsight, I will admit I felt like I was robbed from part of the peaceful birth experience I had hoped for because of the hospital transfer. My son’s birth was incredible and exhilarating and I am so grateful that we are both healthy. I know that I had no control over what happened afterward, and in reality, I had the best possible outcome after a severe postpartum bleed. And at no time did I wish I had just given birth in a hospital.

But a little part of me grieved for the moments I wanted to experience during that blissful postpartum period. I was hoping to take an herbal bath with both of my sons after M’s birth, something my older son was really looking forward to in the birth center’s big bathtub. Even though he totally understood why it didn’t happen, he was still sad, and it broke my heart a little bit when I had to explain to him why we couldn’t do that.

My amazing birth photographer Ginger, made some arrangements with my birth center and almost two weeks after my son’s birth, we finally got to take that postpartum herbal bath that I had hoped for (and take some photos!). We didn’t tell TJ about it until we actually got there since there was always the possibility that we couldn’t if a laboring mom needed the room. But we did and he was so happy. We soaked in the tub and snuggled skin-to-skin, letting the herbs heal our tired bodies.

Image by Earthside Photography

Image by Earthside Photography

Image by Earthside Photography

After a hectic two weeks of almost daily heel pricks to check M’s bilirubin, doctor visits, and two hospital stays (my transfer plus two nights with M for jaundice), I finally felt like I had some peaceful closure to what was very likely my last journey with pregnancy and childbirth.

Image by Earthside Photography