Hibernate Blog

A friend of mine loves to tell me “Life is short Melissa.”

With each step I took in the cool morning rain, clarity infused my mind. As I scaled the rocks nearing the summit of the mountain it occurred to me: “If life is so short, why then, are we so deeply and at times desperately invested in how we spend our time and who we spend our lives with?”

Seems to me, this may be the ultimate conundrum.

[August 27, 2009]

She’s 7 1/2 and nothing is quite good enough, lasts long enough, or is big enough. My Princess Sara…the universe, of course, revolves around her don’t you know? We are players in her innocent game and dancers in her elaborate show. Each day includes power struggles, stomping off, rolling of the beautiful green eyes and at least one door-slamming.

I was reminded of this repeatedly as we enjoyed an afternoon at the County Fair. We had strolled the dusty paths, perused the carney fodder, eaten sinful fair-food and ridden a dozen rides. We watched a show, played some games, and spent all of Dad’s money. And at the end while the sun was setting there we were in the middle of the fairway. Sara with tears in her eyes that she wanted more! Not understanding that one ride-ticket wouldn’t get us anymore she finally yelled in frustration, “But it’s not fair!”

I took a deep breath and looked up. To the left I watched a group of tween boys and girls hanging out. They wore goth-like attire and shared a common and bit creepy deer-in-the-headlight gaze. I just smiled. “Thankfulness” was my only emotion. I reached out for my kid’s hands. Quietly knowing it was time to call “Uncle”, they instinctively reached back out for mine.

As we made our way back to the car the lights and sounds behind us faded away. The moment was mine to savor – the moment where my babies still hold my hand in crowds, they still listen to me and believe in what I have to say. The moment when I know where they are and who they’re with. These moments that I am hanging on to as long as I possibly can.

So Sara I say to you, bring it on! Bring on the whining, complaining, huffing and puffing. It will not daunt me. Being your mother is the most wonderful and fairest thing in the land.

Our most precious assets – Nathaniel and Sara.

[August 5, 2009 - Still catching up!]

Early August found me in Los Angeles sharing company with a group of extraordinary women. Coordinators from all states, Board of Directors and Advisory Council members from Postpartum Support International, along with leaders from LA County specializing in perinatal mood disorders, gathered together for PSI’s annual conference.

The focus was the importance of early detection of and intervention for depression and anxiety for prenatal and postpartum women. Our work makes the difference in the lives of countless new mothers and families every day. PSI’s vision is that each woman, worldwide, has access to the resources and support that they need.

PSI Coordinators – Millennium Biltmore Los Angeles

SaraBear Co. is doing its part to reach out to new mothers. On every diaper caddy there hangs a little tag with the blue-dot symbolizing help. For mothers who may have no idea that they are entering a dark place, my hope is that the PSI information on this tag will help lead them right back to the light, shortening any time of suffering by directing her to the immediate help she needs. SaraBear is privileged to be an ally to such a remarkable organization and fortunate to have this cause as our philanthropic passion.

[July 29, 2009 - A month late. What can I say? August got busy...]

My friend Jessica and I went for a swim in her pond as the sun was beginning to say farewell to another spectacular day. The sky still a vibrant blue with a token passing high cloud. Out in the middle of the pond I floated across the water. Gazing up at the crystal clear blue July sky, the sounds of the world became muffled by the echo of the water that covered my ears. Serenity. Stillness. Peace.

The height of summer – the trees and ferns that surround the house seem to wrap their arms around my kids.  These days are what childhood is made of – part of what will mold them into who they become, define the texture of their personality and add or subtract to their temperament. Unbeknownst to them, my children, their cousins and friends are creating simple yet unforgettable memories. Frogs, blackberries, fireflies. Bruised knees, chlorine skin, ice cream smiles.

They have no care about issues to understand, goals to reach, purposes to achieve, quagmires to solve. They lollygag, they explore, they grow.

Here’s to summer and doing everything or nothing at all – underneath a sky so blue.