Hibernate Blog

“The reporter will be there with a photographer on Thursday morning,” the caller from the newspaper told me. It was perfect, two days to plan and an early enough start that I had a reasonable chance of not having stained my shirt by the time they arrived.

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?

It’s no secret that we are work horses here at Sara Bear. We sneak into the office for quiet moments on Saturdays or in the evening. We do this because we are passionate about what we are doing, both the inspiration (babies and parents) and the actual job (promoting and selling a product we know works). Each discovery and accomplishment is a thrill and there is really only one thing that can surpass it:

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!).

Before leaving they visited the World Trade Center site.

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!

You’d be surprised how often we get asked about whether our caddies can be used for pets. Just yesterday I took a call from a woman looking for a basket to strap to her bike to tote her dog in while she vacationed in the area. Sigh, what are you going to do?

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.

That’s one lucky cat. Best wishes to the mom-to-be!

Do you have a caddy picture you want to share?
Email it to: amanda at sarabearco dot com
(Replace “at” with @ and “dot” with . )

The past few weeks have been filled with everything from managing shipping logistics and contract negotiations, to attending funerals, cutting teeth and preparing for camp talent shows. It can get overwhelming, luckily we are highly re-energized by laughter.

Today’s dose came from a video my husband spliced together as he put the finishing touches on our pitch* for a group of angel investors.

*This is not the actual pitch

After a late night thunderstorm, the day started with a female Mallard duck strutting purposefully through our yard, for what purpose we never did determine.

Later, as I headed out to work, I spied a mama deer and her two babies taking breakfast just past my house.

Behind the family breakfast, an Adirondack waterfall.

This is my every day. Lucky days, indeed