MommyCoddle

Last week, I think I could have blogged twice a day, but this week, despite being quite "busy"  it seems there’s not much to say or share. Funny how that is.
I’ve been working my little heart out on ‘my affair‘ and preparing for a meeting with the treasurer and  board president of the farmer’s market. So, I think that blog project will finally come together, too. They want a detailed price breakdown, which I’m horrible at doing. First of all, I have no idea what things cost, what my time is worth and I always get a little twinge of guilt asking for money even if I’m offering my ‘services’. But from their perspective they need to be sure they can afford this and need to prepare a budget for a new blog project.
The pottery ‘workshop’ program is also open again after a long holiday break. The first order of business for me is a slew of test tiles that allow me to see what all the different glazes will look like on my new claybodies.
Yet during the girls’ naptime, when I usually slide out my board and chunks of clay, I find that I’ve actually just slid between the sheets with my book and slowly begun an "examination of the inside of my eyelids". (to quote my mother.) Perhaps, I’m coming face to face with my third trimester. Or perhaps my husband and I need to stop staying up late to watch this(on my computer–still no TV) after the girls go to bed, or engaging in heated games of backgammon?

trace amounts of snow,

make snow angels.

It’s barely worth mentioning, but we got our first "snow" yesterday afternoon. Emma was waiting for it, and watching for it and reading about it. And apparently this was enough to warrant a few angels. It definitely warranted lots of skipping, footprint-making, skidding shoes and song. Yes, song. I don’t think I ever heard her playing quietly out there–some tune was always passing her lips.

The girls and I slipped out of town Friday morning to visit my mom–a two-hour trip west. Dan stayed home because of work, so Emma left this note for him on the fridge and stickers on his pillow. (which oddly ended up stuck to his forehead and hair this morning when we woke up.)

I know this sign doesn’t require translation for many of you out there–fellow mothers of backward-writing children.  But for everyone else: "feed my fish. bye. I love you." If I wasn’t the one spelling all the words out for her, I might need a little translation myself. I love the way she just puts the words and letters on the page wherever there’s room. I’ll never get tired of that.

The trip home was nice. Quick, but nice. I loaded up with a bunch of these for the roadtrip. They saved me.
Emma finally connected with my mom this trip to get her birthday roller skates. So far she has graduated from a carpet skater to a carpet-hardwood floor skater. Not sure when she’ll make the transition to driveway. I might have to wrap her in bubbble wrap first before I let her head out the door.

We were gone for under 24 hours and yet I still feel like I’m recovering. I always feel the need to "reclaim" my house when I come back from a trip–laundry, clutter, vaccuuming. Who in the world gets my carpets so dirty while I’m away?

And thank you, thank you for your outpouring of encouragement and kind words about the two dolls. You guys are great. I was overwhelmed by your responses. You get a girl feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, you know?

First of all, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m no Hillary or Amy or Stephanie. But a mother sometimes has to stretch her sewing muscles, jump in there and make something–good, bad or ugly–because her children think she can do anything. And really, they think I can make anything. If we’re out shopping and I turn them down on something they want (which is usually the case), then it’s, "alright, you can just make it for me."
Last night after baths, of their own accord, they sat down in the rocking chair in front of the fire–one with my Children’s Rooms: Stockholm and the other with a DIY Japanese craft book full of three dimensional bears with moving parts. It was like Christmas shopping for them. "Now, I want you to make this. And this. And THIS!!"
So the request for ages has been a doll. I’ve been doing my best to tame the begging beast, but yesterday, I just couldn’t turn them down anymore. I rolled up my sleeves, made a little sketch, got out the brown grocery bag for pattern-making, and slid out the sewing machine. Let me just say, again, I have no idea what I’m doing.

But here they are–good, bad, probably ugly.  They are simple and plain, my convenient favorite. They each chose a button barrette, and this morning over breakfast I was stitching up last a last minute request: aprons. And Emma’s wears a scarf to conceal an extremely long neck. They don’t have mouths, which Emma says means they can’t talk, but I was so stumped by faces. I didn’t want to ruin them anymore by trying to add a mouth. Maybe later. But, they are dolls nonetheless, made from the heart and already well-loved.

Emma has more than made up for her butter comments. This morning when we were snuggling in bed together she said, "I love this doll so much. I couldn’t even sleep last night. I had to keep opening my eyes to look at her."
Good. Bad. Or ugly. I don’t think they really care.

*******
oh, and Emma noticed at lunch yesterday that my grilled cheese looked mysteriously like a doll’s head.