Hello My Name is Jami, and I don't BLOG.

Well looky there...I just noticed the date of my last blog post was almost a year to the day.

So I've been busy, lot's of awesome (mostly awesome), shamefully domestic, ya know, the usual. Take a peek...

Just thought I'd check in. I've been thinking about starting this bad boy up again. Just not sure I can make the time, but wouldn't it be fun? 

In the mean time, keep in touch! Find me most frequently on Etsy here:

Sweet Baby Dolly on Etsy

or on Instagram here:

Sweet Baby Dolly on Instagram

or GIVE ME A SHOUT! I'd love to hear from you:
Email Jami!

We'll chat soon. Maybe.

x O x

Honey, We're Home!

Phew! I'm back! So...many...changes... this year.... My husband got a new job, we had a(nother) baby, and at the end of the summer we packed up the big brick house and moved our family to town.  

The time we spent at the big brick house was so special. We kept it simple. And quiet. We kept warm in the winter with wood, cool in the summer with ice cream.  We grew from a family of three to a family of five. My husband and I said goodbye to our twenties and hello to our thirties. We learned how to grow and eat food straight out of the ground. We met new friends and joined a new community to call home. Erik learned how to kill a bat (while I curled up in the fetal position on the floor of the closet in a puddle of sweat and tears). Sophie learned how to read, say her R's, climb trees, and ride a two-wheel bike. Charlie learned how to walk, run, and get exactly what he wants through charm and wit. Caleb learned how to open his eyes. I started a little business from a stash of yarn, and discovered my confidence in sharing my creativity (I also discovered my paralyzing fear of flying rodents). 

We walked out the door a completely different family than when we first walked in. There will always be a little bundle of sweeteness in my heart for that house, the time we spent there, and the memories we created on that little piece of land.

So here we are-walking through the door of our new house- this one made of wood, with french windows, glass knobs, and plenty lots of closets. We love it here, and can't wait to find out who we will become while we're here. More to learn, and more changes to come. 

Stay tuned... xoxo

His Name Was Henry

...until about 12 days ago when for some reason it was decided that the world needed another Caleb.

He's 7 days old today. He's the definition on contentment. He's the piece to our family puzzle that we didn't even know was missing. He's like the end of one chapter and the beginning of another. If you need me I'll be smooching him to bits. xoxo

Click...click...click...click...

You've waited in line (for almost a year). You knew eventually you'd get to the front of the line and it would be your turn. Looks like they're ready for you. So you pick a seat, and buckle up. You're a little excited, probably giggling and chatting. You've got a buddy next to you. Everyone around you is excited too. And then you slowly start moving. And then you realize what's actually about to happen. And then you hear it: click...click...click...click. You're going up. Your excitement has suddenly turned into fear.

WAIT! I'm not ready! I think I want to get off.

You grab a hold of your seat, and maybe your buddy's hand. You look to the left and then to right and you begin to wonder why you decided to do this in the first place.

Maybe this was a bad idea. Is it too late? Will they stop the ride for me? What if it gets stuck? I'm not sure I can do th... Why did the clicking stop? OH BOY! HERE WE GOOOOOOO!

It's out of your hands now. You're not in control. You bear down, you scream a little (or a lot), and your hair gets all messed up. You're thrilled and terrified at the same time. When it's all over you're elated, and you're so glad you did it.

No. I'm not heading to the amusement park. I'm scheduled to be induced tomorrow morning. As you know, this ain't my first rodeo (my first two were also inductions...both were fantastic, BTW) but I still feel the nerves. There's no doubt my chin will be chattering as I'm gowning up tomorrow. My teeth actually tap together like a cartoon character, I'm not kidding. It happened before both deliveries, when I got a tattoo, and it happens every time I get on a roller coaster.

PS: I unethically swiped this photo and have no cred to offer... it's from one of my Pinterest boards and the source led to nowhere. If I find it, I will certainly share it. 

Cue the Fanfare!

So my Royal Baby Knitting Pattern has been getting a lot of attention lately.

Apparently the world is on pins and needles (knitting needles!?) waiting for a baby to arrive. Yeah, me too, but it's my own baby, and honestly... my heart goes out to the Royal Family, especially sweet Kate. Can you imagine having every news outlet in the world outside your hospital room? Her post-baby appearance will be front page. And HOLY MOLY the pressure of raising that child!
If that's not bad enough, there's all those wackos out there capitalizing on the birth of an innocent child. Woops, that'd be me, huh? Shame shame. 

I Take That Breath

I keep catching myself taking a long, deep breath in through my nose, and then gently and quickly exhaling. If you were to see me do it, you might think it's an expression of frustration or trying to stay calm. But it's the opposite.

It's more like a breath of gratitude for the present... a reminder that our life is changing, and the breath is my effort to soak in the moments that are quickly flying by.

I feel that Little Wonder do what feels like a somersault in my belly and I take that breath. I wonder what he will bring to our family, what he will look like, how we will adjust, and what it will feel like to know that our family is complete.

When that magnificent girl with the big round eyes asks me those big round questions, I take that breath. Just this week I was faced with questions about the judicial system, mental illness, and why that boy working at the grocery store looked and sounded like a girl. She asks important and intelligent questions, one after another. She wants to know so much, and she's looking to me for the answers, and I'll  answer them all day long if I have to.

And our sweet goofy Munchkin Boy. When I think about how he is going to make the switch from the being the baby in the family to the middle child, I take that breath. The middle child sometimes gets a bad rap, and I can't imagine him being anything but the most flawless little goosh of baby sweetness that ever lived.

On a daily basis I'm reminded of our fortunate circumstances: our good health, our peaceful life, our exciting future. I'm reminded that these things aren't guaranteed, and they may not last forever, and I take that breath.

I just don't want to miss anything! Or take anything for granted! I don't want to have that dreaded "looking back" moment where I wish I would have been paying more attention. I'm paying attention, I'm thankful for this moment, and I'm hopeful for the next moment, each time I take that breath.

Mr. Universe

If you are 9 months pregnant and it's super hot and humid and mosquito-ey outside, and you don't want to be in bed by 8 on Friday night, but you don't want to leave your living room, have your husband/SO/BFF pick up a take & bake pizza and make a stop at the movie machine to grab Jim Gaffigan, Mr. Universe.

But don't blame me if you laugh so hard that you die (I thought I was going to), or your water breaks (I grabbed a towel to sit on!), or you end up laugh-sobbing with your mascara all over your face (me), or your pizza on your shirt (husband).

I know, I should review movies for a living.