Fleece Carrier Cover - Made It!

So, obviously, a lot of my little diy projects are going to be baby-oriented now. I mean we're still in the grind of a remodel, but that has slowed down a lot since Babyhig was born.  It kind of had to since we were screaming through some major renovations, rushing madly to make our house comfortably livable so that waking up for 2am feedings wouldn't end up in our tripping through our makeshift bedroom or impaling ourselves on 2x4s and power tools.

:/

So anyway, I'm excited to be able to continue sharing our renovation progress (and I will!), but believe you me, I am also excited about the baby projects. That is especially true in the case of this fleece cover that I made to go over our carrier. It's probably the only time in my life when something has turned out exactly as I envisioned and I haven't had to make two, three, twelve attempts, AND it came out of my little head only! No pattern or tutorial to follow, and it wasn't a complete mess!

Let me hear you say it: Hallelujah!

Thanks. Now we can move on. 

If you ask me, having a baby-carrier or two on your preggo-registry is completely necessary.  There are certain times when baby just needs to be with you, and those times seem to regularly coincide with when you need to use your hands. Enter the carrier. 

        

Spinach, Goat Cheese & BACON Frittata

Is it weird if I post about food? Can that happen here? I know I haven't really done it before, but that doesn't mean it's off limits, right? After all, cooking is a pretty major part of my "new job," a part that I really enjoy, and the only part on which I regularly get feedback. And if you don't mind my saying so, that feedback is generally positive. Plus, posting it here means that my desire to talk about this recipe will be satisfied, and I won't drive Dan crazy yammering on about it.

So I'm going to vote yes. I can post about food. I can post this delicious frittata recipe. 

Brand New Three

So...I'm a mom now. My husband is a dad. My baby...well, he's a baby. A perfect baby. 

                

We're a family. Higs[cubed]. Musketeers. A brand new three. 

When I named this blog, I was all dopey over the amazing, confusing unity that takes place in marriage. I was reeling over the redefinition of "we" and what it would mean in my life. 

And now here we are...a whole different kind of we. A brand new three. 

I don't even care if you think that's cheesy...even though I know it is, it's still blowing my mind. 

We're about two months into this now ("this" being parenthood) and I think I'm finally getting past the this-is-entirely-surreal stage.  For the first few weeks I found myself repeatedly thinking, and saying, "I can't believe we have a baby. Can you believe we have a baby? A baby. How did we get a baby?"

I think my husband was fairly concerned about my belief in the existence of our child.  And about the Health Education class I must have skipped in high school. 

Of course I know how we got a baby but...I mean, you know?! This whole life, this entire person who will have experiences and memories and opinions and thoughts...we started it. We did this.

                                                      

Okay, no, I'm not past it.  I still can't believe we had a baby. 

He's an incredible little guy. He's really strong, and serious. Everybody says he favors his dad, and that's fine with me. I'm pretty fond of his dad. He's starting to really respond to us--following us with his eyes when we walk across the room, smiling and gushing when we lean close to talk to him, staring at us like we're his only lifeline if he's handed to anybody else. 

We had a baby. A person. A third. 

And he's great.