SaraBear Company has moved deliberately to a path that allows us to provide the best product possible. All of our textiles are custom designs, blending colors and elements that will add a playful splash to the nursery, family room and anywhere else you might keep your caddy.

We have finalized the designs for the replacements of the now discontinued Jack and Sara. We wanted to honor where we started, so the new designs will be called the Jackson and the Saratoga.

Take a look!

Special thanks to Amy for bringing the Jackson and Saratoga to life for us.

The entire Balsis family is looking forward to bringing home a new sister. Amid all the planning for the multiple trips to Russia and preparing their home, they are working to raise money for the adoption.

The incredible women over at The Mom Crowd have spearheaded a mission to raise money for the newest Balsis through a raffle. Head over to The Mom Crowd and check it out. Prizes range from 2 UPPAbaby G-Light strollers, a Mia Moda Cielo stroller to a Claire Bella Moses basket, one of our Havanas and more. The tickets, on sale through Wednesday, September 24th, are just $5, but the boost you’ll provide will literally be priceless.

We were in the elevator this morning on our way to the ABC Kids Showcase. There were only a couple of people in the elevator. One had a badge that read Fit Pregnancy on it. “Oooh,” I thought, I want to talk to him. He was looking at Finley with a huge grin, “Look at all that hair,” he said, “I’m jealous.” We all tittered as he had a very noticeably shaved head.

He leaned in, “Well hello, pretty little one. Hello.” He was beaming and about to reach for her foot when her whole body went tense, her feet kicked out and she shrieked as if in pain. What followed were three minutes of unabated screaming and sobbing and floor after floor of, “Oh, poor thing doesn’t like elevators.” After the second or third comment he said, “No, she just doesn’t like overly friendly bald men.”

There was not soothing her, nor was there any real chance to smooth things over. I ached for the kind stranger and for Fin, both were equally traumatized I am sure. If he’s reading this…

No worries! She shook it off nicely.

Disposable diapers.

Yup, I use them, Huggies Natural Fit to be exact. I lined the inside of my suitcase with them in preparation of a week away from home. I felt downright smug to have been so prepared (Discovering I forgot both my toothbrush and toothpaste tempered my smugness, but still…). At the booth I happily unpacked for the first diaper change and then quickly realized that our aisle mates, the booth actually abutting ours and, more specifically, the area designated for Fin and all of her accompanying paraphernalia, was in fact a reusable cloth diaper company.

Yay guilt and mortification.

I have been meekly and silently changing each Huggies diaper, my face red with shame. Perhaps this should be the signal that I ought to explore cloth, but really, I don’t want to. Now, the question is, should I approach this the way I would a child, “I know you may not want to, but you have to at least try,” or should I let myself decide on my own?

I don’t know about the diapers, but I will leave a note for the staff at the Renaissance not to swap my towels tomorrow.

Tomorrow we’ll work our first full day together at the show, offering sneak peeks at the still-in-development patterns we have to replace the styles we are discontinuing. So far, the response has been incredible, which has us even more excited than ever about new irons we have in the fire.

More soon!

Of course the best laid plans…

Sigh.

The day began with a stain (tooth paste smeared by tiny hands on the counter) followed soon thereafter with an emptying of drawers, furrowing of brow and sweating of upper lip (by a nervous mom). Finally I decided on a top and set about getting the girls ready. I planned to put it on last thing so it didn’t get soiled. Sean kindly offered to iron the shirt for me. Twenty minutes later everyone was dressed so I dashed upstairs to dress.

The one detail I had not considered: fit.

I slipped my arms into the shirt and then went to button it. No dice. Thanks to an incredibly successful breastfeeding relationship with daughter number three, the poor buttons of my shirt couldn’t make it across to the sweet little button holes on the other side of my chest. It would be fair to classify what came next as mild hysteria much to the chagrin of my trying-to-help-me-stay-calm husband.

Fearful of completely wrecking the day and igniting and argument about what is really important, I sighed and threw on a funky t-shirt from Banana Republic and slipped on some kicky red wedge sandals, “Shiny three inch heels can make up for jeans and a T,” I justified in my head.

Back at the office with the photographer and Melissa, I was relaxed, the breakdown of earlier all but forgotten.

“Ok, Melissa, you stand here. Over just a touch, look this way. Ok, perfect, now Amanda you come right over here next to Melissa, ” the photographer directed.

Melissa groaned.

“What?” he asked.

“Is it me? Am I too tall?” I asked.

Melissa chuckled ruefully, “Yeah, kind of.”

“Want me to take off my shoes?” I asked. I was kind of kidding.

“That’s ok. They won’t show,” the photographer said.

“Really? I mean seriously, it’s bad enough I’m in a t-shirt. Promise my feet won’t show?” I asked as Melissa threw out an, “It’ll be fine,” and the photographer said, “No one’ll ever know. It’ll be our secret. Promise.” I kicked them across the room, well out of view.

So tell me, is “sucker” emblazoned on the barefoot chick’s forehead?

Unencumbered time with family.

Sometimes this means kids, but sometimes (insert wicked smile) it means husbands.

About a week ago Melissa took a trip, intended as a surprise, but let’s be real, when you wait as long as we do to get away, it’s tough to keep it a secret. They headed to the city, an easy train ride from our beautiful Adirondacks and at the same time, a world away.

We jaunted to NYC, part business and part husband’s birthday celebration. We left the kids behind, in the happy arms of Nancy (the best adopted aunt in the world) and my Dad, “Grandpop”.

Enjoying a room with a view that was exhilaratingly different than the deer, ducks and bunnies back home.

Indulging unapologetically in touristy things (three times!).

Few words were said, we simply watched, reflected and mourned. Seven years to the world, how unbelievably fragile and difficult to grasp.

It was the perfect taste of freedom, with decadent frivolity and grave reminders of how blessed we are. Thanks, New York City, for offering such a starry night and magical getaway!

Today we received an email from a woman who is currently expecting. Her mom gave her a caddy and shortly after bringing it home it became a more diaper catty than caddy.