[This is husband posting.]

Okay here’s the deal: You all know Danica’s super-creative and loves to sew. She’s made a lot of things for people, and I’ve been encouraging her to make them in bulk so we can sell them.

Well they’ve arrived.

So here’s the deal. I’m posting this because Danica loathes the thought of selling bags. (Apparently her mother commanded her years ago to charge money for piano lessons, because she couldn’t bring herself to do it herself—there’s a trend somewhere there, and at some point she’s gonna have to get over it. Anyway, I digress…) So I told her, “Babe, make a bunch of bags, and I’ll ask around what they’re worth, set the price, and that’s that.”

So that’s how it works. It makes it easier for her, and it makes me a rich man! Muahahahahahah!

Well, not that rich. Because after all the time she spends on these things, and the money on fabric, supplies, books, etc…I’ve learned you don’t sew because there’s money in it.

So “I’m” charging $25. a bag for these smaller ones with a $4. s/h fee.

Now that’s a good deal!

Contact her with shipping info and she’ll let you know where to send a check. (First come first serve, and she’ll update this post as they sell—sorry in advance for a ghetto ecommerce system, but all my so-called “us time” is spent coding her other project!!!)

K. I asked her for a description:

“Here are six little handbags I designed and made. They’re made of new and re-purposed cotton fabrics and vintage trims, and top-stitched in contrasting thread. I lined them for a bit of stand-alone stability. Bags measure approximately 9″ wide at bottom, 6″ at top, and the handle hangs about 7″. All with small interior pocket, trimmed with coordinating fabric.”

To fame and fortune!
RD

A mother and her seven daughters join together
to discuss what it means to be a Godly woman,
single or married, in this day and hour.

Opening Monday, March 3rd

momandus.com

I’ll make sure to write about how the fuzzibunz are working for me. But for now, I’m just taking in all of the info in the comments!

I have three new books that will quickly fill you in on the ongoing discussion in my mind and with my husband (and you’ll probably also get filled in on where I presently fall in the vaccination debate:)

The Vaccine Book

Vaccines, Autism and Childhood Disorders

Natural Alternatives to Vaccinations

All of this was read about, thought about, and discussed prior to Jameson’s arrival. I was definitely of the “not to vaccinate” persuasion before I even began my research, but Ryan had never even considered that such was even an option — and quite understandably, since in my interactions with pediatricians and nurses after Jameson’s birth, they all present the schedule of vaccinations with such, I don’t know, bossiness, that one would never know they could actually think and decide for themselves.

You know, chipper nurse walks you to the exam room, and announces, “So, today Jameson will receive his first round of immunizations. Here’s the information on what those shots will include.”

Me, nervously mustering up the courage to put my foot down: “Uh, no, actually, I’m not going to have him get any vaccinations.”

Well, didn’t that throw a wrench in the gears. Oh well.

Anyway, our decision when Jameson was born was basically that we knew we didn’t want our infant with an undeveloped immune system getting injected with live diseases. We at least wanted to wait — so, no pressure for an ultimate decision.

But eventually, there needs to be one. So, I’m curious. Who’s been around this block before, and what are your thoughts and reasonings? Have you come up with your own vaccination schedule — one more sensitive to a child’s development? Have you decided yes on some shots, and no on others? Have you opted for the absolutely not approach?

(And if you just follow the standard shot procedure, go ahead and tell me why.)

Last night my much-awaited package arrived:

This morning, Jameson happily models the contents:

Wish us luck!!

:: Spot mopping. And the spot gets picked like this: Jameson coughs, chokes on phlegm, and then projectile vomits all over. And then I mop.

:: Looking down to see that something in my pocket has leaked through my jeans. What in the world?… Ah. Right. A wet, gross tissue. Nice.

:: Putting little man in the ergo and going for a walk — and listening to his little three-note song, feeling his little head resting on my back, and then two little hands reaching around to hold mine. For the whole walk.