Hibernate Blog

I was never Homecoming Queen. Wasn’t President of the Class either. I did go to Homecoming, though my date stepped in dog poop outside my house, which proved to be a telling barometer for the future of our relationship.

Tonight I saw a little something that had me feeling as if I were at Zaepfel Stadium circa 1990 being crowned Homecoming Queen, The Nest has posted a SaraBear diaper caddy giveaway. Now, I can’t promise that winning will make you feel like a queen, but if you send me your address after you win, I’ll send you a tiara*.

Now, go sign up!

*We know tiaras at my house.

I remember the warnings as I announced my pregnancy, “Watch out, your memory is the first thing to go” and “You get a baby and you get stupid.” These comments were almost always followed by crass asides about the physical things that would never be the same. I am here to tell you that the physical changes, though difficult in the weeks and months immediately following delivery, are nothing like I imagined. My body is my own, still strong and increasingly lean, prudent choices during pregnancy and an active lifestyle have seen to that.

My memory? Oh mama, it is gone. Gone, gone, gone. I can multi-task - painting a porch while breastfeeding, blogging and rocking a seat with a barefoot, telling a story to two snacking toddlers while doing the dishes, making dinner and drinking a cup of coffee? You bet!

Remembering what I need to buy at the store? I forget that I need lunch meat even as I stand in line at the deli. And my coffee habit? So many times I’ve remembered the filters and not the beans, or the Coffee Mate, but not the filters. It’s devastating, particularly when I forget that I forgot and then pad to the kitchen and realize that my day will not enjoy the boost of a Starbucks jump start.

Last night before heading to the store, I told Sean and the girls that we needed wipes. I also made a list and underlined wipes twice. As I locked the house up I repeated over and over, “Wipes. Get wipes.” Then, owning the fact that I would probably forget the list or simply not look at it, I grabbed a Sharpie and did the deed.

It’s not pretty, but it’s undeniable, I’ve got mama brain and I’ve got it bad.

There are certain things we learn that we never forget:

“i” before “e” except after “c.”
Don’t wait until intermission to go to the ladies room.
Don’t put deodorant on immediately after shaving your underarms.
Don’t assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.

Other things are more transitory, in that you know them, but you often forget them. I think the most elusive bit of wisdom for me is an awareness of my own gratitude. I forget how fundamental a joy it is to be recognized, to have someone say, “You are really wonderful,” or “Thank you so much for doing that.” Why that is so hard to hold onto, I’m not quite sure. Another thing that I am continually surprised by is how utterly delighted children are by things their size, whether it is an arm chair scaled down for them or little tools that make them feel grown up. I suppose when it comes down to it, we all just want to be recognized as special and as being deliciously and uniquely who we are.

So, here’s a question for you: Have you acknowledged the people or things in your life that are truly remarkable, whether for the function they serve or the feelings they give you?

Would you want to know if you made a difference in someone’s life? If you did a great job? Well, no matter how different people are, I think deep down, they all want to know when they do a good job.

Go make someone’s day.

And, if you feel like it, go tell Cookie Magazine you love your caddy. We admit it, it would make us feel great.

You ever look up and realize that you’ve been going, I mean really going, for as long as you can remember?

Between kindergarten graduations, potty training and giving birth, to logo updating and website redesigns, we have been busy around the clock. Just last week we just sent designs for new collateral materials to the printer so that we could have them to Christina Hudson at Peas & Honey in time for the show in the second week of July. Later this summer we’ll have another run done for the ABC Kids Expo. Throw all of these things together with new offices, new retailers and new countries (in the UK we sell “nappy caddies”), it can be easy to forget how it all began.

Crying, lots and lots of crying. Mostly baby, but maybe a little mom.

These wonderful baskets with their appealing colors and fanciful patterns? They started as a solution, a weapon in the fight against colic and chaos. It was one woman throwing down the gauntlet, refusing to succumb to the staggering futility that can threaten to squelch everything as a baby cries inconsolably. She looked around as her murmurs and her kisses did nothing to quell the cries. What she realized was that if she couldn’t fix it, she could ease it.

The things that prolonged a crying jag, or the things that exacerbated an already fussy baby needed to be eliminated.

Diapers - check!

Wipes - check!

Diaper rash cream - check!

Burp cloths, gas drops, tissue - check, check, check!

No more searching, no more struggling, never again would she stretch and disturb a finally quiet baby. The diaper caddy was born and every day after she used it.

Until last week. We spoke in hushed tones as Fin napped:

“Nate made it through the night.” She told me proudly.

“I know, but you know what? Benny is super excited and I’m kind of sad.” Then she was quiet.

The milestone rocked me, her last baby was finished with diapers and the product that she invented single-handedly would no longer be a necessity for her family. Her daughter will use a caddy for hair ties and Barbie clothes, maybe Nate will use one for Matchbox cars, but never again will Melissa use her caddy for diapers. She’ll continue to improve it and promote it, but from here on out she’ll be producer and not consumer.

Holding Finley in my arms and thinking of the two caddies at home, stuffed to overflow with 3’s and 6’s, I felt a lump in my throat knowing that the day will come for me too. One day my babies will be out of diapers, kids. I looked at Melissa across a room filled with baskets and liners and sketches with new ideas and I smiled. The legacy of Melissa’s babies will live forever in these caddies. The diapers that she brought in, no longer needed in her house, will come to mine. We are linked, Melissa and I, as we journey ahead watching our babies become children and as our product takes flight.

Lift your head up from all that you are racing to complete and go have a moment with your baby, whether he’s in diapers, or whether she is practicing on the potty. Live in this moment.

Another day, another way…to use your caddy.

Having kids is a constant reminder that we each have our own way of doing things, this is particularly strong when you watch two kids take one item and use it to totally different effect.

My girls like to drive. Briar is more of a leisurely Sunday driver.