Launi

May 13, 2009August 23, 2020

Milliner?

All the stuff 001

Back in the olden days if a lady wanted a new hat–she simply went down to the milliner’s–that’s someone who makes hats—and had one made–especially for her.

These days if you need a hat, you go to Target or some other playful place and see what you can find. It’s not quite the same as having something made especially for you but where would you go to find a milliner in this century anyway?

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Well, from the looks of my sewing bag and my room—I’m about ready to hang a sign on the door with that very title on it. Or to be more easily understood by the general population, it would read: “Hatmaker.”

ABC 066 #1

For some odd reason, since I found this “Flapper Hat” pattern last week, I can’t seem to stop making them.

ABC 027

Recently while cleaning out the closet, I found my beloved “Peaches and Cream” 100% Cotton thread stash. Something snapped…and the madness began.

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It’s the perfect size project to haul around and work on any time…any where–doctor’s offices, track meets, while watching a movie or to pass the time while waiting to pick someone up from somewhere.

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No matter how many other things were scrawled on the “to do” list–it was just so much more fun to make another hat.

Now, every time poor Lily walks past me, I’m yanking a hat down over her head–to make sure the size is working. It is. She’s a darn good sport–so far.

However, to be brutally honest, even Beckham wasn’t safe from the “let’s just see if this will fit…” fest. He was not a fan.

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So–help me out here. Besides decking out my grandbabies–I need a new purpose for the irrational cap-making behavior.

Tell me which of the four–not yet claimed by a local baby—that you like the best.

That should do it.

Now I’m off to make more…more…more…

May 12, 2009August 23, 2020

Baby Dolls

So we have this very sweet, very happy, very rubbery baby dolly at our house.

Believe it or not, she smiles allll the time and she’s even starting to laugh–a lot.

The funny thing is–I can’t really prove it, because whenever I point the camera at her…

…she stops whatever she’s doing–laughing, and smiling included—

and stares into the lens.

She’s fascinated by it.

Which makes it hard to show you what an incredible smile she has…unless…

we can point and snap the shot really fast…

before she goes back into the “zone.”

I think I love this baby’s smile so much because it’s one I’m very familiar with.

Pretty sure her mama had it first.

May 11, 2009August 23, 2020

One Phone Call

My boy…my other boy, you know the one with a tiny bit more hair than the bald kid—-the far, far away one?

Well, I got to speak to him today. Christmas and Mother’s Day are the four days in two years that we get to actually talk to our missionary boy on the phone. After 25 minutes of trying to make the calling card work and the crowded, Mother’s Day phone lines work, and the crazy land line work–we finally got through.

It was so wonderful to hear his voice. I spoke to him first, because I’m the mom–then everyone else had a turn. As much as I loved talking to him personally, it was easier to relax and enjoy the call by just putting him on speaker phone and listening to everyone else talk to him. Every time it was passed to me, I had to fight–really fight the urge to yell, “What are you doing on the other side of the world?!!”

The good news is that he is well and safe and happy, and while he is still my boy, he says he wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else in the world right now. We talked to him for about an hour until we realized that with it being 9 hours ahead for him–it was well past his bedtime.

He asked if he could say a prayer in Lithuanian for us. It was incredible to hear him speaking so confidently in a language I have never heard. I tried to be brave when he needed to say, “good-bye,” but it was hard.

I console myself by remembering that in less than one month, he will have been gone a year. He is learning and growing and serving and becoming a very wonderful young man. I am so proud of him…but I miss him so much.

No matter how old my children get, I suppose I will never stop counting them, over and over whenever we go somewhere together. It’s a mama bear instinct to make sure they are all here…safe. “One, two, three, four, five….one, two, three, four, five…one, two, three, four…dang it.”

This is good. This is right.

This is tough stuff for the wuss mom of the year.

I’m working on it–and it is getting better.

Kind comments will be gratefully accepted and may even give you 25 Celestial points…

you never know.