Stories that last through generations are meant to be shared. This is a big one, and we felt the need to pass it on to you. Arlene, a crafty and talented baker was finishing a cake for her friend. Her daughter was sitting at the high-chair in the kitchen, and Arlene told her not to touch this magnificent cake she'd been working on. And what happened next? Something that's been mentioned in the family ever since. 

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I was heading out for a surf weekend at the Oregon coast when I got a text from my wife saying the kids were throwing up. It's those times when things don't go as planned and you and your spouse have to navigate and decide what to do about it. 

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Let’s leave out the sweet stuff.  When my kids only want a meal that consists of cheese, noodles, peanut butter, bread, jam and a little bit of yogurt here and there then complain of a stomach ache, I worry.

The genetic soup that made our children is missing an ingredient—I love food, my wife loves food and my mother writes cookbooks.  This “food thing” has to be a phase; I need it to be a phase, because Dad is starting to get nutty about it. 

I know they’ll be fine, but I want better than fine.  I want healthy eaters. Let them eat kale, carrots, salad, grass fed beef and free-range chicken. Are they predisposed to eat grey, tasteless, processed food?  Is it a power trip? Fight me on something else, but please eat healthy.  

It was yellow with printed animals one side, pintuck detailing on the other side and a yellow satin border. She slept with it every night and had to have it just right on her bed, so she could play with the stitching as she fell asleep. A personal blanket story from a Baby Star staffer inspired by a photo of my nephew, Silas in his mom’s lap wrapped up in his Baby Star blanket inspired us to think of our own stories, and ask you for stories.

My story is a little different. I had a washcloth. Not a run-of-the-mill washcloth, this one could go over your hand—I could sleep with it, and take a bath with it. Sometimes my washcloth was a puppet, a super hero, a monster and at night a hand puppet buddy that helped me fall asleep.

Some blankets have been in families for generations, and some are new; all will hopefully be passed down to each baby star that comes into the world. My daughter has her favorite blanket, yellow with a black and white polka dot border, and I have a feeling that thing is going to college with her.

The staff at Baby Star would like to ask you to share stories of blankets and babies, washcloths and snuggle times that you remember from childhood or you know will be remembered when your star grows up. We think blanket stories are fun and silly, but we also want a place where memories can be shared so people can come to our site, read a blog and crack a smile.

Our blankets mean something more to us and our little stars; they are all waiting for a home where a little star might just make them a part of history. Everyone has a blanket story – share yours with us!

OK, really, our clothes are great and they look good; better than most we think, but what is it about style and children that register in our consciousness? Old high school memories, College, siblings or cousins—who knows, but it matters a little bit. 

 At three months our son was diagnosed with esotropia and needed glasses. 

“What?” Our hearts jumped. The questions came in like a flood. How will he keep them on? What if he takes them off? Will he have them forever? Can he take them off ever? We had never seen a little baby with glasses. Well, guess what? No one else had either.

We were afraid he would be teased at school as he got older, so we made a conscious decision to make having glasses a non-issue. We address questions, but don’t talk about it a lot.  It’s a fact. Our son might have to wear glasses for the rest of his life, and that means glasses are cool.  Some people even ask if he wears them for style. “Nope. They’re real.” I don’t know how many times I have explained the glasses. It doesn’t matter, because I embraced those awkwardly rimmed bright blue focals before he even got them.  My wife and I were determined that he would not be self-conscious. In our world they are a part of him, and our world is what matters. Now… I think it’s him. He makes them cool. His bright and confident personality makes glasses cool for kids. Maybe our attitude about it helped a little.  I like to think it did. It’s nice for my meek parental ego to think that we are so great at this one thing that we foresaw a possible socially adverse bump in the road of life for our little boy and changed it into an advantage. We can't take the credit. He’s just cool.  His glasses are cool, and he’s cool for wearing them. 

Sidney is 2.7 years old now, and there is a girl at his “school” with pink glasses. His are grey these days, but I think that he could make big black bifocals with a telescope on one eye look cool. 

Your little star is an extension of you.  Be bright and shine, and your baby, no matter what he or she wears (hopefully it’s Baby Star) will shine with you. Our son, Sidney became a super nova.