good thing my kids aren't your kids

Okay, okay. I admit it. Sometimes I want to say something like, "Oh, you're buying Babywise? Have you ever heard of The Baby Book?" or "It may not be the best idea to get an epidural before you're dilated to about six centimeters!" Oh, the choices in parenting. Solids before six months. (But breast milk is the perfect food right now!) Circumcision. (Did you know it's just considered a cosmetic procedure these days?) Cry-it-out method. (OHGODNO.)

But, y'all. It's none of my business. Each mommy knows what is best for her family. And you know what kills me? Seeing one mom be a bitch to another mom just because she doesn't agree with her. I see it all the time. And it's not fair. Women can be so mean to one another online!

Lord knows there is plenty for other mothers to pick apart about me. I have a horrible problem with yelling, and I mop my floors like once a month. I spend too much time in Internet World and not enough time playing or reading books to my son. Why do we hold everyone to our ideal standards of the type of mother we personally want to be on our best days? Sometimes, we all have to make choices in the moment that go against what we believe. I hate the cry-it-out method, but there have been times when I've had no other choice but to let Austen cry for a few minutes while I do what I need to do.

And I admit it, I have played the bitch card before. When I was a brand new mommy, there were days when I thought I knew all there was to know about being a mom. And sometimes, I still grumble to myself about others' parenting choices when I know I shouldn't. But then the other day, I saw this, and it kicked me in the ass. Because it was like it spoke directly to me.

Why, what a grand idea! Who would have thought?

There is no point for me to stress over the parenting choices of other mothers. My concern is for my own children, and I need to put that focus on being the best I can be for them. There is too much emotion, background, and passion that goes into the choices, to understand fully those choices of other parents. We make choices with care and out of love. We try our best.

I know we all falter sometimes, and there are plenty of things I've done that I am not proud of. Like that day I let River watch TV for five hours. Oh, yes. Good thing my kids aren't your kids, huh? 

the reality of a child

One night when I was about five years old, I was having a hard time falling asleep. I was doing the usual kid thing -- getting up multiple times to go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, too hot, too cold, can I have just one more hug? Finally, my mother had had it up to here with me, and told me not to get up one. more. time. or I would be in big trouble. It must have been late, because my parents were already in bed. (Now, as a parent, I can only imagine how frustrated they were with me).

I lay in bed, twisting and turning, listening to the blood in my eardrums against my pillow, trying to fall asleep. I decided it was too bright in my room, and I got up to turn my night light off, and crawled back in bed. That didn't last for long. Too dark. Much too dark. Quite afraid, I carefully made my way to the night light to turn it back on again, and as I leaned down to reach it, I hit my forehead on the corner of my dresser.

It was one of those pains that starts off sharp and then slowly sinks into your skull. Tears sprang to my eyes. I managed to flip on my night light and tucked myself back in bed, crying. All I wanted was my mommy! If only she would come running into my room and scoop me up in her arms and kiss my head, it would make all the pain go away! I was so overcome with emotion, my forehead throbbing and being a little scared in the room that had been pitch black only moments ago (who knew what lurked under my bed?), unable to tell my mom what happened. I cried and cried, and eventually fell asleep. I'll never forget that night, because I felt true hopelessness. It was a feeling of, if there was anything I could do to change this situation, I would. The feeling of needing my mommy so bad, and not being able to get to her, just one room away.

I think it's important to remember how we felt as children when dealing with a very emotional child. I have to constantly remind myself that my toddler's emotional maturity is that of a two year old, and that just because he feels distraught over, say, not being able to take a toy to bed (a frequent battle over here), it is the same amount of emotion an adult feels when they feel distraught over something. It doesn't matter that his emotion is over something small, it is still his reality and I must be empathetic when dealing with those emotions. It's funny, looking back at how I felt when I hit my head that night and couldn't seek my mother's comforting kiss, and how it is adjacent to feelings of overwhelming emotion I may feel today over something much more serious.

In the same line of thought, it helps to think of this when reminding myself of the innocence of a child. Children don't do bad things because they are bad. Their actions are because of influences and emotional immaturity. Much like we may react to a bad driver on the road, or in an argument with a spouse, a child reacts to things that upset them, but on a different level. One thing I see my son do all the time is copy things that are said and done toward him. Obviously, this makes me watch more closely how I treat him. If I shake my finger and speak in frustration with him when I am upset with him, I don't think it's fair that I discipline him harshly for doing the same to me (because he has before, and I know he is only mimicking my actions). I must be a constant example to him of how we act in situations that upset us, and before disciplining him, remind myself that he is just an innocent child who is experiencing the --just as important-- reality of his emotions.

project pinterest : southwestern stuffed peppers

The Pinspiration

Southwestern Stuffed Peppers from Simply Love Food


The Project

I used this delicious recipe as inspiration for my own. Our meal was vegetarian but it would be very easy to make them vegan. It was flavorful and easy, and I will be making them again! This recipe feeds two, and the measurements are guesses, because I didn't measure anything.

1/2 cup uncooked pinto beans

1/2 medium onion, chopped

1/2 cup rice

4 oz. frozen corn

1 clove garlic, minced

1 tsp. cumin

1/2 tsp. chili powder

salt to taste

2 bell peppers

cheddar cheese

I cooked the beans using the package directions. When they were pretty much cooked through, I added the rice and onion and simmered, covered, for twenty minutes. The rice pretty much soaked up all the water, so I had to add a couple more cups about halfway through. In the meantime, I halved the peppers and roasted them in the oven for twenty minutes at 400 degrees.

When the rice was thoroughly cooked, I added the corn, garlic, cumin, and chili powder and continued to cook it uncovered for a few more minutes until the water had evaporated. Then I stuffed the peppers with the rice and bean mixture, and baked them for 20 more minutes, adding slices of cheddar cheese for the last five minutes of cook time.

When they came out of the oven, we piled them high with plenty of cilantro and avocado.

project pinterest : no-sew vest

Pinspiration

No-sew vest from Crafting Cousins, using an over-sized t-shirt.

Project

I chose a well-loved, old t-shirt for this project. One that I enjoyed wearing frequently in its youth, but has become too stretched out, too full of slight stains, too thin. I began cutting the neckline and realized I was not supposed to cut the back. But uh, I went with it. Because... I had no other choice. I proceeded to follow the instructions (it's really not a difficult project at all) and was done in just minutes.

I tied off the back with a strip of fabric from the sleeve and clipped the ends. Unfortunately, this t-shirt was too stretched out, too full of slight stains, too thin to make a good vest (or, a super hero cape, as river calls it). I used a crappy pair of scissors and didn't measure anything, so this project was doomed to fail.

I think I'll just chop this one up and make another headband for Austen. Maybe I'll try again, with a higher quality piece of clothing and fabric scissors.

project pinterest : jersey headbands

I decided it's time to put all those pins on Pinterest to good use. This month, I am going to try and recreate as many recipes and DIY projects as I can. For my first project, I chose the one that looked the least intimidating and used the most basic supplies. You can probably make one with things you have lying around your house.

The Pinspiration

Adorable Jersey headband from Oh Sweet Babies

The Project

Hot glue gun.

Stretchy fabric for the band, and complimenting fabric for the flower.

Needle and thread. Scissors.

I measured around my very perturbed baby's head, and cut a strip of fabric about two inches shorter  in length than the circumference. Then I sewed the ends together, pulling the thread to create a gather at the seam. Then I went back and sewed again... 

resulting in this simple headband. You could very well just leave it like this! I think it's cute.

Then I cut a bunch of circles out of the fleece, which would be pinched together and hot glued to create a flower of sorts.

I put a bit of hot glue in the middle before pinching, to help the flower keep its shape.

Then hotglued the bud to the band at the gather. You probably want to sew it on. Or maybe even sew all the petals together, instead of hot gluing, to make it washable. But I'm lazy. I continued to pinch and hotglue the circles together until...

I got a good-size flower for that cute little head.

It was so easy and looked so cute, I made another.

austen's very long shorter birth story

How to Naturally Induce Labor

There are many ways I could begin the birth story of my Austen Rose. I could begin with my first contraction on that cool and sunny morning, or I could begin in the week before her birth when I began experiencing prodromal labor for the first time, but I think I'll begin with the crazy accurate predictions John had about both our children's births. When I was pregnant with River, John said my labor would start with my water breaking, that it would be a fast birth, and that he would be born around dinner time. He was correct on every point. My labor did begin with my water breaking, I only labored for four hours, and River was born at 5:45 in the evening. This time, he joked that Austen would be born on a Thursday morning.

The night before Austen was born, I was up late watching Friends on TV. Now, I love Friends, but it's not often that I catch it, and I hadn't seen an episode during my entire pregnancy. Earlier, John had been looking up natural ways to induce labor and we were talking about how silly some of the suggestions were. Anything from eating tons of basil, to going on a bumpy car ride, to dining on Chinese cuisine, to putting mandarin oil on your heels. John said he figured that most of the suggestions on the list were just things that people happened to do right before their bodies naturally went into labor on its own. I joked that I had watched Friends the night before River was born, and here I was watching it again, just days before Austen's estimated due date. If I went into labor the next day, watching Friends is a natural way to induce labor.

The First Contractions

At about seven o'clock the next morning on October 13th (a Thursday morning), River came into our room, half-awake and doing the zombie walk. I scooped him up and took him to the bathroom with me, because I knew he wouldn't want to wait in the bed, and while we were in the bathroom I had a crampy contraction. I didn't think much of it because I had been having a lot of prodromal labor; regular contractions lasting thirty seconds to a minute in length, some as close as five minutes apart. They would become quite crampy, but would hardly grow in intensity. I began to wonder if I would know when I was in labor. We made our way back to the bed, and shortly after settling in I had another contraction. A few contractions later, at about 7:15, I couldn't fall back asleep and decided I might as well get up. We had our forty-week visit with our midwife Alisa at 9:00 and needed to leave the house by 8:30 so we could stop for some breakfast tacos on the way. Since these contractions were a bit more painful than what I had been experiencing, I wondered if today was the day, but figured I was just getting my hopes up.

I texted my friends who were supposed to come to the birth, and jumped in the shower where the  contractions continued. I remembered how I labored in the shower with River during those first contractions, and had to get out because they got stronger. All these memories from my first birth came back, and I started feeling anxious, excited, and nostalgic. Could today really be the day? I got out of the shower and slowly went about the morning in my towel, making coffee, checking Facebook, watching whatever was on TV on a low volume. At this point, whenever another contraction came I had to stand and walk through them, but they were still pretty mild and remained uneventful. I realized that since it was more comfortable to move during a contraction, it really could mean that I was in labor... but still, I didn't want to get my hopes up. After all, three friends were coming from Austin, and it would kind of suck for them to pause their day only to have to return later on. Against my will, I kept thinking, This is the day! This is the day! From that, my mind kept going back to the Bible verse, "This is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it!" Over and over in my head. It was perfect. I wanted that to be on my mind on the day my daughter chose to grace the world, so I posted the verse on Facebook.

At about 8:00 I made a call to my midwife. I told her I had been having crampy contractions for the last hour, but that they weren't too strong and I thought they were probably about seven to ten minutes apart (I hadn't really been timing them). Seeing as how fast my labor was with River, I told her I wasn't sure if I should try to make it out to the birth center... I mean... if I was really in labor. Which I probably wasn't. She told me she had a full day of appointments so she wouldn't be able to meet me later in the day, but that I could stay home and wait it out if I wanted -- if I was in labor, she would come to our house (obviously), and if I wasn't, we could just meet tomorrow if I was too uncomfortable to make it out to the birth center. I decided I didn't want to miss our appointment just because of a few contractions, so I told her we'd see her at nine. I woke up John and told him I'd been having a lot of contractions and even made a call to Alisa, but that it could just be more prodromal labor. You guys, I was in serious denial.

I wanted to take a picture with River -- our last picture together with him as an only child -- but we were in a rush to leave, and I forgot. I will always wish I had remembered.

Maybe This is Happening

I got myself dressed (while thinking, This could be the dress I'm wearing the day I give birth to Austen), applied my makeup just so (Just in case... gotta look good for those birth pictures) and made my awkward hair look slightly presentable (I shouldn't have gotten my hair cut. Really bad decision). When I got River dressed, I purposely chose his "World's Best Brother" t-shirt that John's aunt & uncle bought him, because he could be a big brother in a few hours. By 8:30, we were in the car and on our way to our appointment. At this point, sitting through the contractions was terribly uncomfortable. I started dramatically moaning and complaining through the contractions, and realized that yeah, I probably was maybe kind of in labor. We pulled into our fave cheap Mexican food place and my contractions were tough enough that I couldn't tell John what kind of taco I wanted (disaster) and I had to moan and give hand signals while John ordered our food. I'm not sure the lady working the drive-through had any idea what was going on. If she did, that's pretty cool. How often does a woman in labor go through the drive-through window at Chacho's.

I realized at this point, there was no way I could make it to the birth center, twenty minutes away, and back. It was way too painful to sit. I called Alisa and she said she had just left her house and to go home, she would come over and check me -- if I was say, a two, she would go to the birth center and come back when labor picked up, and if I was like, a five, she would stay until I gave birth. Great, I thought! My state of mind was "Yay, labor day!" This didn't last long. When we got home it was about 8:45... read it: fifteen minutes later. Up until this point, I wasn't even sure if I was really in labor. I had a hard time getting out of the car. The damn door tried to slam on my contracting belly and good lord, who knew holding a car door open on a sloped driveway mid-contraction could be so awful.

I had been in contact with my friends and family the entire time and my friend Samantha, who once again realized I was further along in my labor than I imagined I was, was on her way from Austin. Speeding, because she knew I was in labor while I didn't. I was having trouble contacting one friend, so I hopped on Facebook to try to get ahold of her. I was forcing myself to eat a taco because I hadn't eaten anything and I noticed my hands were getting shaky and I was losing my appetite -- exactly the two things that happened when I went into transition with River. My contractions were growing in strength and intensity and pain, and half-jokingly, I would say, "This isn't fair. How did I do this with River? I changed my mind, I don't want to do this."

The joking quickly turned to full-on seriousness. The contractions were so painful and I was feeling very sorry for myself. I started crying through and in-between the contractions. I kept repeating, "I don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. This isn't fair. Why do I have to do this?" (Um, because you chose to do this, maybe?) They were so overwhelming and I felt so weak and helpless as they crashed into me. They were one on top of each other and I barely got a break in between. This happened so fast, I didn't time to prepare myself emotionally. In the twenty minutes after we arrived home, they had gone from manageable to absolutely mind-blowing. John was running around the house, doing some last-minute picking up, stopping every once in a while to kiss me and tell me I was doing a good job, and Alisa had pulled into our driveway and was making calls, rearranging her day with her fellow midwives and clients. She had just talked to me a short while ago and had no idea I was so far along.

River was by my side the entire time. He was confused, but handling things well. Comforting him was surprisingly comforting to me. He didn't annoy me like I thought he might when I went into labor. The past month or so, we had been watching homebirth videos on Youtube. He had gotten used to watching them and we talked about how mamas "roar like dinosaurs" when their baby is coming out. We would roar together and talk about how "Austen is coming! Austen is in Mommy's tummy, but she is going to come out, and Mama is gong to roar like a dinosaur! Can you roar like a dinosaur?" This was Alisa's suggestion and I'm so glad she guided us through preparing him. During my labor, if he ever got worried about why I was moaning and crying (and roaring) through contractions, I was able to separate myself from the pain momentarily and calmly remind him (in a slightly chipper voice, even) that Austen was coming and Mommy was just roaring like a dino. He was very attentive, calm, curious, and compassionate, offering plenty of hugs, and mostly just watching quietly. After one particularly painful contraction, he wrapped his little arms around me, saying, "S'okay, mama." He kissed me. "Aaaaall better." I want to never forget that.

And Then She Came, Fast and Furious


I was laboring standing up, leaning over a table in our kitchen and I started feeling "pushy." I didn't recognize the pushy feeling the first time, but knew exactly what it was this time. I started grunting through contractions. My water burst, and I yelled to John. He ran outside to tell Alisa, and she came in immediately. It was 9:20. She was about to check me when I started having another contraction. When it was over, we were all shocked to find that Austen was all the way down, and that I was definitely ready to push. "John, the pool!" I suddenly remembered this was supposed to be a waterbirth. But Alisa interjected -- "John, there's no time for the pool! Your baby's head is right here!" She had to say it a few times for it to click. We were both shocked to learn I was much, much closer to having the baby than either of us thought. She was right there. I could feel her head. When did that happen?!

Meanwhile, I was trying to text my friend Kimberly, who had offered to pick something up from the store on her way to the birth, to tell her that she should just head straight over, because the baby was coming quicker than we thought. But it took about three-contractions length to send a simple text and all I could get out was:

(photo courtesy of Expose the Heart Photography. Please check them out -- wonderfully talented photographers and very dear friends of ours!)

Through this pushing stage, I kept reminding myself that the key to dealing with the pain was to stay calm, but I just couldn't. I remembered that the peace that came during my labor with River was when I let go and worked with the contractions, rather than against them. But nothing was helping me get through this. I tried to stay relaxed and loose, but my entire body was tense with pain. My hands were in fists and I was very loud. I was light-headed from breathing so hard and being so tense, and extremely thirsty. Within minutes, there was that burning ring of fire. Honestly, I don't even remember it. At all. I just remember those contractions. Alisa had to tell me to bend my knees and literally, before I knew it, she was here. With her little up-turned nose and dimpled cheeks and long toes, she was HERE! I didn't even know! Seven minutes of pushing.

9:27 AM

Oh, it was a happy chaos. We were all laughing. Laughter, Austen. That's what you were greeted with when you came into this world. We were all so overjoyed to meet you, little girl. You are wanted and needed and precious to us all. The entire room was filled with JOY. It was absolutely unbelievable. Alisa asked John to get towels. Austen screamed. Oh, my little girl. Dramatic from the moment she entered the world! She wanted nothing to do with breastfeeding and just cried as if her feelings were hurt. We continued to laugh and Samantha came through the door seconds later, and Kimberly, minutes. Austen smelled so sweet. I didn't smell the sweetness with River because he was born in the water and it was washed off. But that brand-new, fresh sweet smell that comes with birth, I smelled it so strongly on Austen.

After the excitement settled a bit, Alisa suggested birthing the placenta. Oh yeah. That. I wanted to know the time to see how long it had been from birth to cutting the cord, mainly out of curiosity, and it had been twenty minutes. The time passed quickly -- I thought maybe it had been five minutes. After Daddy cut the cord, we moved to the bed and did the placenta thing (I don't even remember. How are memories so fleeting?), and then Austen had her newborn exam. She screamed the whole time, but liked being in the hammock when she was weighed (just like Brother) -- a beautiful 8 pounds, 3 ounces.

Soon enough, she was nursing like a pro. My friend Irene brought me lunch; the same thing I ate after giving birth to River -- BBQ from Bill Miller's. After a few hours, Samantha took River with her to her mom's house (the best gift ever. I will always be grateful) and Irene stayed the rest of the day, holding Austen while I slept, or bringing me something to drink, or whatever I needed. It felt odd having a baby in the morning. I had the rest of the day to live! I just wanted to sleep! Night would come soon enough, but it was anything but restful. Just like her brother's first night, Austen allowed me about an hour of sleep.

The next week we were blessed by so many friends who brought us meals. My friend Jessica even cleaned the kitchen for me with her own little baby in the carrier. I am so thankful for everyone's help those first few days and am not sure how I would have survived without so much support from our friends. Sometimes I still don't know how I survived the first couple weeks postpartum, but obviously I did, because I am here tonight with this beautiful little six-month-old sleeping beside me.

Austen's birth was very different from River's, in almost every way. It was only two and a half hours from that first contraction to the time she was born, and it was only the last thirty minutes of labor that was extremely difficult -- but I would take another birth like River's any day. The pain was so intense. Before giving birth to her, I never would have though to use the word "excruciating" to describe giving birth, but I can say that giving birth to her was very painful. I do believe it is because I did not have the chance to prepare myself mentally and physically (putting on makeup doesn't count).

Some people, when they see our birth video or pictures, have said I'm strong and that I was "amazing." When I was pushing her out, I felt anything but. I felt overpowered by those contractions, completely out of my control, and on a ride about which I had nothing to say or do. Now, looking back, I am amazed at what my body can do. Women are strong and amazing -- it doesn't matter if your baby came via c-section or out the old-fashioned way. Just the fact that our bodies have grown and birthed a baby is amazing. 

When I watched the birth video two days later, it actually made me cry and feel terribly uncomfortable to see myself in such a state. It made me feel vulnerable and primal. It was so different from having River; when I gave birth to him, during the pushing stage, I was calm and quiet and focused. With Austen I screamed. I considered not showing the video to anyone, because if it made me want to turn my head, surely it would make others uncomfortable as well. But that's what birth is. It is difficult and painful and messy. It's not pretty. But it is beautiful. (No matter how a baby comes into this world.) But the intensity of the pain was matched by the intensity of joy felt when she came. Alisa even told me she felt giddy when Austen was born. The word I've used to describe River's birth is peaceful, and the word I use to describe Austen's is definitely joy.

(really awesome placenta picture for all you birth junkies out there. to think a baby was in that for nine months! look at how strong that bag is! )

easter and other things

I suck at keeping a blog. 

Easter began the night before, as we partook in a tradition in which millions of families all across America participated: dying eggs, of course. It was a first for our little family of four. River would have found it slightly interesting last Easter, but I was pregnant and puking, so I wasn't really in the mood for anything other than lying around all day. This year, being the do-everything age of two-and-a-half, he absolutely loved coloring the eggs almost as much as he loved licking the vinegar water off the spoon. Yeah, I don't know. That's my kid for you.

On Sunday morning, River enjoyed searching for the painted eggs hidden (er, placed in obvious locations so as to be easily spotted by a toddler) around the living room while Daddy recorded on the video camera. In his first-ever Easter basket was John's little Easter bunny from childhood, a like-new copy of Corduroy I picked up from Goodwill, some egg-shaped sidewalk chalk, a couple of gardening tools for digging in the dirt, and a chocolate bunny. Since Brother got a basket, Austen received one as well, with one of my childhood Easter bunnies and a book called Babies, just like one I had when I was little (I am a sucker for the children's book section at thrift stores). I had fun putting these simple baskets together for them. Every holiday, I have this idea of making beautiful things. I wanted to plant real grass in the baskets instead of using paper grass, hot-glue flowers to the outside and fill them with delicious home-made treats like carrot muffins and adorable wheat-cereal bird nests, but it didn't happen. I am just not organized or crafty enough. Maybe someday, but simple things aren't bad. His basket was appreciated, and it makes me feel all fuzzy and warm to see my baby boy happy.

Dressed in Easter best (with Austen looking the most dashing of us all, in her pink princess dress Grandpa bought for her), we headed to church for the first time in about a month. It was the first service of a new church called The Roots, and we were so, so ready to go. We have searched and searched for a church here in Olympia, and not one struck our hearts and really felt like "the one." We had a few really great church families in Texas, and it is tough not to compare and wish for the familiarity. Not that there was anything wrong with the churches we've visited. We just didn't really feel like we "fit." During the service at The Roots, I felt very much like I belonged. I truly feel like we were led here and that we are finally going to connect with some fellow Christians and you know, make some friends. Friends are nice. I haven't hung out with a friend in five months. Oy.

Despite terribly missing the friends and family we left behind, and actually, missing Texas itself, the longer I am here, the more I feel like God wants us to be here. It feels right. I missed my family so much. But not only that, things have just really fallen into place. John has a great job, and for the first time, we are not struggling. I feel like we are steadying ourselves and are more secure. It feels good. Our marriage is better than it has been in a long time (two babies in three years of marriage really takes its toll). I am striving to be a better, sweeter, more organized mommy and I think having my own (very organized) mom here is helping me with that. I'm not a girl with a "best friend" -- but my mom is the definition of a best friend to me. Having her near is nice -- no, better than nice. 

I feel blessed by God, because of these simple things. I have everything I need. My beautiful, healthy children. My hard-working, sweet husband, providing for us so that I can stay home with the beautiful, healthy children. My amazing family, who is two miles down the road. Sure, I don't have a couch or a bed, but whatever man, I feel lucky. All I can say is thank you, Jesus. Now, if we could just work on those friends...

look what came in the mail

i received a package full of sunshine the other day.

okay, that sounds cheesy, but it seriously made my day

and i just can't stop looking at it. check. it. out.

it's austen and river's new quilt my friend rachel from barlow baby made, and ohh, if poetry was a quilt it would be this one. just look at it. i'm pretty sure when i opened it, my husband thought it was crazy that i was so entirely smitten with a quilt. every bit of planning was made long distance and rachel just made it so easy. i gave her a few examples of fabric i loved, and told her i trusted her to pick out beautiful prints. she certainly did an amazing job -- the different prints go lovely together. it's playful and cheery and eclectic and charming and full of every color of the rainbow. you can tell it's made with pride and the craftsmanship is beautiful. i couldn't have asked for a more perfect quilt for my little ones. it is so special to receive something handmade. rachel, this certainly will be a family heirloom! thank you so much!

please head over to rachel's facebook page and take a look at more of her beautiful hand-mades!