Hibernate Blog

Add to the list of the things you can never truly understand until you are a parent:

Sometimes celebrating a milestone feels like saying goodbye.

Last weekend Nate learned to ride his bike. The sight of him, little feet barely able to reach the ground, neck straining to hold the added weight of his helmet, and eyes alive with excitement, brought unexpected tears to my eyes. Watching his sister hungrily, we had known it was only a matter of time before he put all the pieces together and caught up to her. It is just hard, no matter how proud we are, to remember that he isn’t pedaling away from us, he’s moving forward.

Nate, my little guy, you are getting to be such a big boy, but no matter how far you pedal or how high you climb, you’ll always be my baby.

I do it everyday, but this past weekend it wasn’t just another day at the office. Finley accompanied me to the BlogHer Conference in San Francisco.

See a bit of video from the San Francisco ABC affiliate.
All of 10 weeks, she made not a peep during the session on women entrepreneurs featuring Patricia Handschiegel as a speaker and comments from bloggers like Wendy Piersall. It felt incredible to be networking and learning in the St. Francis, with its history and grand architecture the stage for table upon table of Twittering, blogging, and texting women, and doing it all with my daughter strapped to my chest - how far we’ve come.


Fin did have a rather magnificent explosion during the keynote with
Stacy Morrison of Redbook, Lisa Hsia of Bravo, and Lesley N. Pinckney, director of digital development for Essence Communications Inc., the cleaning of which was handled deftly while still listening to the presentation, allowing me to feel present as both mom and professional.

We walked through the exhibits and sat in on sessions, while bloggers buzzed about the dazzling magic of the party at Guy Kawasaki’s house. I tried to keep my chin up about missing the People’s Party sponsored in part by GoodyBlog. A bit of pampering here helped, so did hanging out with Jess, Jen, Janet, and a serendipitous meeting with the twinkly author of Rocks in My Dryer.

Each night of the 4.5 day sojourn, I was thrilled that in addition to taking my daughter to work, I got to take her home, even if it was to a chilly hotel room.

There comes a moment when the cumulative effects of sleepless nights and demanding days reaches a point of no return. The weary murmurs of, “Will it ever end?” and “Just one more minute, Mama just needs one more minute to sleep,” begin to ebb. The rhythm of the infant march, the feedings and the naps, the rocking and the shushing takes hold and the hard edges blur. There is routine and mastery, maybe even a touch of auto-pilot, until it happens.

You sit nestled in the couch, the house is still but for the gentle post-storm breeze, your laptop or a book rests on your lap, you are at peace. Calm. You pause, feeling something afoot, but unsure of exactly what it is, until you turn. And there she (or he) sits, aglow in loving you.

Pudgy bare feet with wiggly toes extended upward as if stretching to accommodate more joy, eyes twinkling, scanning your face until you smile. You set aside your reading and lean in, “Ah-goo,” she says, and of course you “ah-goo” back. It is hard to know in these moments who is more proud, whose delight soars higher.

What is perfectly clear is exactly your place and purpose in the world.

This moment of joy, life lived fully.

No, we’re not pandering to Real Simple, though the spirit of their magazine matches our own approach to living and parenting. Life is fast-paced, whether it’s life with babies and marking the passage of time through feedings, changes and gurgles, or it’s life with bigger kids and scrambling to make it from one activity to the next and remembering the necessary paperwork, equipment and, dare we say it, kid. Ok, we haven’t forgotten a kid yet, but some days, it doesn’t seem that far outside the realm of possibility.

We try to face each day with the awareness that when all is said and done we are all people, big or little, we want to treated as such. It continually amazes me how something as simple as giving my kids something of their own, a “big person” chair made for little people, can make their faces light up. Pardon the slang, but “Duh!” Some days we do better than others.

This past weekend Melissa had been planning to take the kids to a movie, when she wrote to me late Saturday night it was to rave about having taken Sara to a show. A theatrical performance. Being both a theatre grad and a past employee of the Williamstown Theatre Festival I was thrilled.

We are incredibly lucky to have the Adirondack Theatre Festival literally across the street from the SaraBear office. The show they went to see is called Altar Boyz.

Sara so enjoyed the performance and the one-on-one time with mom that she drew a picture about the show and then spent all day Sunday playing dress-up. Her imaginative play was infectious and before long Nate had donned his fireman costume. Monday it was back to the grind, but the haze of a wonderful weekend of simply beautiful moments lingered. Melissa’s face, as she recounted the excitement of the weekend, went soft. No worry lines, no slumped shoulders, just the radiant peace of a Mom who felt like she’d slowed the hands of time and captured moments that will live on forever, for her and for her kids.

Joy, it’s simple, really. Go find some!

It’s especially nice when the giving we do is for moms.

A while back we were given the opportunity to participate in something extraordinary.

“My name is Sarah and I am writing to inquire if you might be interested in participating in the Stepping out of the Darkness 5k road race for the Day Program at Women & Infants Hospital through a sponsorship.”

The program at Women & Infants Hospital in Rhode Island is truly exceptional and the chance to bring greater attention to postpartum depression was something we couldn’t say no to. Though we weren’t able to attend Sarah, the event coordinator, relayed news of the event to us. We were so proud to be a part of the day.

We’ve also been lucky enough to form a relationship with ten toes of Staten Island, a program that was started by two working professional mothers who wanted to give more to the community. The organization provides a comprehensive blend of education to parents-to-be, with instruction of and exposure to the many different approaches to childbirth.

Recently they sent us this:

Have you been giving to something or someone that makes you proud? Share your story with us!