Hard to believe it’s my 32nd birthday today. I still feel like I just got out of high school. That my life is still just beginning and that I have so much more to learn. I still make silly mistakes and say things that I probably shouldn’t. I sometimes throw tantrums when I don’t want to vacuum or cook. I think it must have been some sort of huge cosmic mistake that that the world would put a kid in my care when in all actuality, I’m still feel like a kid myself.

And then I look in the mirror and for the first time in my life, the woman in the mirror is starting to look like the number on her birth certificate. There’s a sort of long-ness to my face and a shallow-ness to my skin that wasn’t there before. And bags?! Samsonite should hire me as their spokesperson. Last Christmas, I officially joined my older sister in the “Gifts That You Need When You Get Old” group when my mother gave me dark circles eye cream. It is a strange and bitter group to be a part of.

I’d like to say that it’s just the normal wear and tear that comes with being a full time mom, that all these physical changes aren’t indicative of how young I still feel inside but nope, I feel old inside too. I worry about all the people I love so dearly and wish I could go back to a time when I thought people in their 20’s were adults and death was a far far distant threat. I’m tired, so so tired, at the end of most days and I now fall asleep while watching movies like my mother did.

There are some things that really suck about getting old (um, hello dark circles?!) but it really isn’t all bad. The last thing I wanted to do in this blog post was complain about my age! I love being thirty-two, seriously, I do. My thirties fit me in so many more ways than my twenties ever did. I’m starting to find a calmness to life. Things that would have really upset me in the past now roll right off into the “Too Busy To Worry About” pile. I’ve finally have a certain self-assurance that reminds me to surround myself with people who “get” me and not worry too much about the people who don’t. That life is too short not to see my family every chance I get and to hang out with people who make me laugh. Jim and I have entered a point in our relationship that is strong, secure and intensely comforting. Those things can only be shared with the passage of time and tribulations. We’re coming on our 10 year anniversary later this year and I’m crazier than ever about him.

Ah, and let’s not forget Jackson. He may be responsible for 90% of my worrying but he’s also responsible for 90% of my giggles nowadays. Have I told you all that he’s taken to removing his pants in his crib before he takes his nap? That he took a whole row of steps while everyone was cheering for him at The Baby Cafe the other day? I must have mentioned that he’s now eating all by himself, like a big boy? Earlier today he wrapped his arms around my neck and snuggled into my chest, really hugging me for the first time. And just like that…I was a kid again. Falling in love all over for the first time.

And so yes, another year has brought around another birthday and I am reminded in a hundred million ways  that I am one Lucky Girl.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

I’ve taken to walking lately. Long, drawn out walks that take anywhere between an hour to an hour and half to complete. Sure, the walks are a great form of exercise and Jackson loves being outdoors but let’s not forget the real reason I take walks. I seem to be walking myself sane these days.

Before Jackson (was there ever really a time before Jackson? Hard to believe.), I usually chose running as my regular form of exercise. A good run got the heart and lungs working overtime quickly. I kept detailed notes on how far and fast I went, always pushing myself harder the next time to beat those records. I didn’t have time to go slower, I had a business to run and as they say, time is money. How different things are now. Sure, time is still money but whether I’m walking outside or playing in the den, I wouldn’t be in the studio working either way. I have a new boss now and he’s seriously got the cutest 4-tooth grin on this side of the Rio Grande!

These long walks started pretty early last year, about four weeks after JackJack made his grand appearance in this world. Looking back on that time now, it seems as if someone else was walking in my shoes. Someone who needed just a few minutes to herself before returning to the challenging world of breastfeeding and diaper counting. Someone who thought that if she could just walk far enough maybe her world would go back to normal again. I wish I could hug that girl in my memory and tell her it would all be okay. (To all you new mamas out there, it gets so much easier. I promise.)

Somewhere around six months my walks transformed from necessary escapes to calming meditations. It was around this time that Jackson started to really enjoy our walks and usually would fall asleep half way through. With Jackson preoccupied or asleep, I was able to find and listen to my inner voice. Nobody told me that after having a kid, you would desperately miss the silence. I’m not talking about the silence around the house, although you miss that too. As many of you know, a mother’s mind runs a 100 miles per hour thinking of speech delays, socialization, lunch, healthy snacks, leaching plastics, GMOs, cost of Montessori, public school downfalls and so on and so on. When I’m walking the only thing running through my mind is whether or not that beautiful white horse four houses down will be out today or not. All those things that seemed so dire while at home are just a little bit easier to swallow when you’re watching baby goats play.

Gone are the days of keeping track of how many miles I’ve gone and how quickly I can get back to work. There are some days I think that I could keep on walking forever, only turning back when I hear the sweet rustlings of a hungry child. I hope Jackson continues to enjoy our walks. I hope he grows to finds them as refreshing to his inner voice as I do. I hope to one day walk hand in hand with a sweet little boy, past the horses and the goats, explaining how walking made me a better mother.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

So those of you who are a bit more experienced with birthday parties have to tell me, are they always as crazy as the day leading up to Jackson’s party was?!

I had planned on keeping things relatively laid back and simple. I made the pennant flags I was going to use as decoration (visit my craft blog for a full low-down on the creative part of Jack’s party) the day before and the little secret prizes we were going to include with the homemade Cracker Jack were printed and glued earlier that week. The only things that had to be completed the day of the party were cleaning the house, baking the Cracker Jack, frosting the cupcakes and whipping up the black bean dip/chile con queso. Easy, right? Sure, no problem at all when you consider that my mom and sister were also here to help. It all would have gone by so easily if only we didn’t lose power from 10 in the morning to 2 in the afternoon, one hour before the party was suppose to start.

That’s right. We lost power for four hours. Perfect timing, huh? Couldn’t vacuum, couldn’t pop the popcorn, couldn’t melt the cheese, couldn’t whip up the frosting. I tried to just mix the cream cheese frosting by hand and when I broke the second spatula decided to power the hand mixer with the cigarette lighter adapter in the car. Just in case you were wondering…No, a small car battery does not have enough power to run a hand mixer and yes, pictures were taken of me trying to mix cream cheese frosting in the car.

Luckily elbow grease doesn’t need power and we were able to focus on the cleaning for the majority of the blackout time. I was also able to run to the store to get more ingredients for the Cracker Jack since I oh-so conveniently burned the first two batches before the power went out that morning. Seriously, could the day get any better?

Actually, we weren’t worried too much. If the power didn’t come back on before our party, we still had the black bean dip (which is served cold) to offer our guests and it was a beautiful day out so the house wasn’t too cold. Plus, we were having a ton of babies over. I was pretty sure they would be content enough just hanging out in the playroom!

Luckily, though, the power came on one hour before guest were going to arrive. Just enough time to whip the frosting, frost the cupcakes, pop the popcorn, cook the caramel mixture, bake the homemade Cracker Jack and jump in the shower. What an absolutely crazy day! I don’t know if my nerves can take years more of this! :D

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

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Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Dear Jackson,

Well, here we are, one whole year. It was almost 365 days ago that I was pacing our living room, waiting for a little boy who would change my life forever and wondering why the heck I didn’t listen to my Lela when she said making tamales would bring on labor. Five hours from start to finish, you were in such a rush to to meet the world, little boy. We, including the nurses and your midwife, were all just playing catch up. I hope you’re always as excited to start the day as you were on your birth day.

The world is an awfully big place and every day presents a slew of new opportunities to learn something new.  Every single day of the last 365 have been lessons in the school of life and motherhood. Lessons that will need a lifetime to perfect. One perfectly imperfect little life.

Some of them are quite funny (if you’re like me and enjoy 1st grade, bathroom humor), like making sure you have all your bases covered when it comes to changing a diaper or that it’s easier to scoop nuggets out of a bathtub rather than try to mash them down the drain. You never look at life quite the same way after having to use a spatula to scrap off dirty diapers into the toilet. Poo and sleep, that seems to be all we talk about these days!

Other lessons weren’t as easy and I wonder if there will ever come a day that I’ll think I have this mothering thing down. How do you teach someone how to raise a son to be a good, decent man? To  have dreams for your child and  yet not fall into the trap of expectations? To know that you can love a baby will all your heart and still need five minutes at the end of the day just to be? That fine line between teaching boundaries and being cranky?

You see, Jackson, I want so much to be the mother who deserves to have that smile light up her life. Some days I feel like I’m doing okay by you but other days, I fall asleep, promising myself and you that the next day I’ll do better. That I won’t lose my patience and that I’ll be as fun and stimulating as you need me to be. That I won’t forget that these peaceful days I get to spend with you are already numbered and soon the world will be knocking on my front door, asking me to share you. Not yet, Baby, not yet. Please be all mine if only for a little while longer.

Dear Baby JackJack, I hope you had an absolutely amazing first birthday filled with endless kisses and love. You are such a good boy and we’re beyond excited about all the wonders and adventures we have to share. Thank you for making me a mama.

I love you to the Moon and back.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Well, we’re coming up on Jackson’s 1st birthday and whereas the other blog letters to my son have come so easily, I’m having a hard time figuring out what to say.

How do you sum up in words the most amazing and difficult year of your life? A year where the challenges were only outnumbered by the rewards? I find myself wanting to cast in stone the feelings, scents and tastes that accompany Jackson’s first year on this world, so that when I am old and gray, I will have this blog to remind me of how it felt to hold a new baby in my arms while looking up into the eyes of the man I love.

I just don’t want to forget.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

I’ve mentioned before on this blog that we’re not religious and yet I write this post near the glow of a brightly lit Christmas tree and with the buttery voice of Bing singing in the background. Do not underestimate the comfort of tradition. I was raised Catholic so certain Christian holidays still pull at my heart strings. Everyone is having such fun during this time of year and I already have all the decorations in the garage, it seems silly not to partake in the festivities. Now that Jackson is in the picture, it all got a little bit more complicated.

I love my memories of putting ornaments on the Christmas tree while drinking hot chocolate, my mother and my aunts getting drunk off of rum cake, my parents completely asleep on the couch after being woken up at 4 in the morning and my sisters and I raiding the stockings after tearing through our wrapped presents. These are good memories, really good memories and with the world full of scary things like war, sickness and pain, I would do anything to give Jackson these memories.

So, yes. It’s going to be complicated and there may come a time when a difficult converstation will have to be had with Jack but until then, could you please pass the Silk eggnog and let’s play a little bit of  good ol’ Burl Ives!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Did you avoid going anywhere on Black Friday? Me too. Catch up on your holiday shopping with our Cyber Monday sale: 15% off the entire shop plus free first class shipping. We’ll even throw in a free hairpin because we love you so much! Use code: Cyber2009

Here’s to shopping at Gerbera Designs in your pajamas!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

What a tiny, perfect, little world. Lounging on the beach, getting ready to swim back to the boat for dinner and drinks. Those tiny plastic people have got it good.

Do you think they worry about how much weight their children are gaining, whether the kid sitting next to them at the Dr. office had the flu or how they’re possibly going to get the next H1N1 vaccine?

Do you they ever think about heart attacks and cancer, chemo and quadruple bypass surgery? Making sure that the people they love, know they’re loved?

Do they worry about milk production and recurring duct infections? Balancing the needs of a child with the needs of yourself? Remembering why two people fell in love and had a child in the first place?

Do they lay awake at night worring about saving accounts and retirement? The food industry and lead paint? An ailing family dog’s liver and the upcoming holiday shopping season?

Nope. The only thing they have to worry about is whether to choose a pina colada or a beer.

Being a tiny plastic miniature sure does have it’s benefits.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

One of my favorite places in the entire world got mentioned in Mothering! Way to go, Baby Cafe!

I bought a digital subscription just so I could read it and share with you guys (click on image for larger size). I’m really so proud of all the work the ladies behind the El Paso Baby Cafe do. They can’t begin to imagine the cascading effect their actions have started. It’s hard to remember now but breastfeeding Jackson was really difficult in the beginning. I had breast surgery 6 years ago and all the experts insisted that breastfeeding would be impossible. Because of the education and support I received immediately after leaving the hospital, I’m proud to say that Jackson is a happy and healthy (except for the little cold he has now!) 100% breastfeed baby.

Would he have been fine on formula? Absolutely. I am by no means knocking anyone’s parenting choices. Breastfeeding my son was a personal challenge that, like labor, hurt terribly at times and made me question just how much I could handle. As it turns out, I can handle quite a bit. I am a more confident and secure mother because I succeeded at something everyone told me just wouldn’t be possible.

Thank you, Libby, for bringing The Baby Cafe to El Paso. I will never forget the time spent in your chairs…laughing, crying, sharing. See you tomorrow!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

The number one question we get these days is “When are you going to have another one?” Most of the time I just smile and make a joke about sleep or poop, they nod and the conversation moves forward. If he had more than just a few minutes to spare, I would tell “Mr. So-And-So” how I really felt about being pregnant again…

How it took almost 4 months before I felt like myself again, and that while I was falling in love with my new little boy, I wasn’t so sure about how motherhood was fitting.  Sure, Mr. So-And-So, everything worked out in the end but it was a tough road for a while there and quite frankly, I’m not sure if I’m ready quite so soon.

I would proudly pull out some of the pre-pregnancy jeans that finally fit again and defensively explain that while I luckily went down to my normal weight pretty quickly, my body had forever changed and muffin-topping out of my old skinny jeans was not my idea of sexy. Thank you very much.

The conversation would then go down the “Torn-Every-Direction” road where I would probably shed a few tears over wishing I had more hours in the day to devote to my business while never having to miss all those amazing early bedtime moments Jackson and Jim get to share.

And it wouldn’t be a normal dialog these days if I didn’t talk about my boobs. Heh, my boobs…I wish. And the thought of nursing another baby…more tears.

Finally, the conversation would end, as Mr. So-And-So desperately looked for someone to save him from this lunatic mother, with me lovingly remembering what it felt like to be pregnant. That it felt like holding the most beautiful little secret in your belly for 9 months. Sure, the heartburn and pelvic pain was no walk in the park but I, quite happily, would and will do it all over again. In due time.

You see, although I’m not a religious person, being pregnant was as close to sacred that I’ll ever get. And knowing that I’ll only experience this a few times in my life, I’m really not in any hurry.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

“I don’t like myself, I’m crazy about myself.” - Mae West

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

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Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

FYI: It’s a pretty good bet that there will be more Halloween pictures on Monday! Just thought I would warn you.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Jackson is going to be Nacho Libre for Halloween this year and since he’s folically challenged, I was in need of a baby wig. From the beginning, I was pretty sure that a beanie would work as a skull cap but I had no idea what to use for hair. At one point, while at Hobby Lobby, I had brown curling ribbon, doll curls and yarn in my basket. Terrible options, I know, but I was running out of time, people! And then, as if by divine intervention, I saw a little girl running around with a pink boa…a boa…of course! So, there you have it. Jackson is ready for his Lucha Libre debut and in celebration, I’ve prepared a super easy tutorial on how to make a fluffy wig for a baby.

Visit Tried & True for the tutorial!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Crowbar? Check.
Bloody machete? Check.
Two sharp new teeth? Check.
Dirty diaper? Check.
A scream to wake the dead? Check and check.

Undead beware…the Zombie Hunter is on the loose and he’s armed to the teeth!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

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Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

We’ve been in the market for a reasonably priced floor lamp for a while now but as most of you can recall, we’re a bit particular when it comes to home furnishings. We saw this lamp in the corner of one of our favorite antique stores and well, I had to have it! It’s a old medical examining lamp. Cool, huh? It takes your standard compact fluorescent light bulb and is sturdy enough that a certain 9 month old little boy can pull up and it won’t come crashing down. And I even like the color.

The fact that we can use if if we ever need to extract a tooth at home totally adds to my love of this lamp. Because, well, you never know.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Well, Little Boy, it’s been 9 months and cliche as it may sound, your Mama can’t imagine where all the time has gone. You are such a different baby from the last time I wrote one of these posts at 6 months. From sitting up to crawling everywhere to pulling up on all the furniture, what a difference three months can make! And that smile? You could melt snowcones with that smile. Oh the trouble you’re going to get out of with that grin!

Of course, Mama worries nonstop about you. Are you crawling enough? Are your legs bowed? Do you babble enough? Are you happy?

That last one gets me every time. Are you happy, my sweet little boy? Do you dream of sweet things like puppies licking your toes, Papa flying you around or endless cuddles with Mama? Those are just the beginning, Jackson. The world is filled with amazing sights to see and stories to be told. I hope you have dreams large enough to store them all.

You’re not the only one who has grown, you know. While you were learning how to crawl, I was right there with you, learning how to be a Mama. You think you fell all the time in the beginning? You should have seen me! Overwhelmed, exhausted and unsure. We’re having so much fun now, I have a hard time remembering how tough it used to be. I’m wonderfully grateful that you’re sleeping through the night and taking 2+ naps during the day but a part of me always wonders when you’ll wake up so that I can see your silly face.

I love to see that face. Sometimes, when you’re playing and the light is just right, I see the man you’re going to be. A good man, a happy man. A man with a smile large enough to light the world.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.