One Is One-derful

Several things have been said to me over the last few days on the subject of only children that I finally gave in to writing a post about it. I’ve thought about writing about this subject before and I’ve always backed away because even though I love sharing about the minutiae of my life, I am always reluctant to speak too freely about certain personal subjects. But this subject is very important to me, so I feel compelled to talk about it.

Growing up, I never questioned that I would be the mother to several children. I never really felt I had any special skills or gifts. What I was good at was mothering. I received compliments all the time from grownups (one of the best things a kid like me could have ever asked for!) about how caring I was, how I would be such a good mom when I grew up. I am the oldest of four. My youngest sibling is almost 14 years younger than me, so I got some definite hands-on experience when it comes to babies, diapers, temper tantrums, and being barfed on. I’m bossy, organized, neat, and a control-freak. Perfect mom material! The Army Man is the second of five boys. Large families run in the family, so to speak. I really did come to believe that my purpose here on earth was to raise several well-adjusted children, each of whom went on to be productive members of society.

And then I had Laura. This has nothing to do with her; it has everything to do with me.

I realized almost instantaneously that being a mother was harder than I could have ever predicted. I wanted to fall in humble worship at the feet of my mother, my grandmothers, and the Army Man’s mother. I knew, probably when Laura was just a few days old, that my desire for 3 or 4 kids (was I mad?) had fallen to just two. But still I knew that I HAD to have two children. You don’t just have one kid. It’s just not done. Those kids are spoiled, bratty, and unfit for society, right? And mothers who can only handle one child aren’t really mothers. And I wanted to be a real mother-as opposed to the kind of fake mothers that give birth to a child and raise that child, but never get full “mother” status since they have only one child.

I don’t want to go into all the details about why or when I finally started to think that not having any more children was a good idea. We certainly thought about having another (because it was the right thing to do), and tried for a while. Nothing came of it, and it became known between the Army Man and I that we were done. Our families were quietly supportive, although I always knew that another child was hoped for on our behalves by many loving people. The decision was a personal one between the Army Man and I, and it is one that has proven to be the best thing for our family. I suppose if anyone is to blame, it’s me, but I also feel that it is me who has suffered the most at the hands of this decision. I wrestled for a very long time with deep feelings of failure and guilt over not fulfilling what I believed to be my destiny. If I couldn’t do the one thing I thought I was here to do, then what am I here for? What good am I to the world? Why is having a child so much harder for me than other women? Are they truly better moms, better women than me? Sometimes I feel like I still don’t know the answers to those questions.

Having an only child is an interesting life. I feel like I am constantly expecting more of Laura, because I know that there are plenty of people who already have opinions about her because of her lack of siblings. When she had temper tantrums as a 2 year old, the day care workers told me it was because she didn’t have siblings. I'd say it was because she was 2, and has inherited my temper. And if she had had a sibling at that point, I’m sure the sibling would have been an infant and would not have been teaching Laura any of the things that siblings are magically supposed to teach you. We occasionally get questions from strangers and acquaintances. They all want to know when we’re having another baby. When I say that we’re not, the looks and comments are surprising and sometimes hurtful. Think of what you’re doing to Laura, they tell me. I want to know what exactly I’m doing to her, other than loving her and raising her the best I can. I’ve often been told that I HAVE to have another child. Why, because some stranger tells me to? That’s a great reason if I’ve ever heard one.

It saddens me that so many people feel so negatively towards only children. Do they not realize that those mean things they're saying are being said about my daughter, my sweet little girl? And sometimes within earshot of her? Why is it acceptable to repeat negative stereotypes about a certain class of people? When will comments about only children be considered just as rude and un-PC as comments about people’s race or religion? Would the mother of three find it okay if I started spouting off about how the youngest kid in a family is just a spoiled brat who has everything handed to them? I think not. So forgive me for my attitude when people start bashing only children-that's my daughter you're talking about, and I won't stand for it.

Even more interesting to me, which I think most people don't stop to ponder: it's not Laura who requested to be an only child. My family planning is not up to my 5 year old, so why should she be punished for it? If people want to tell me about what a horrible parent I am, and how I'm so cruel to my daughter, that's one thing. I'm an adult and I can take it. But it's not fair and not acceptable to tell me things that are wrong with Laura since she's an only child. It has nothing to do with her. And if she does grow up to be a spoiled brat who can't share, it will be because I raised her that way, not simply because she has no siblings. The most current research shows over and over again that most only children are very similar to the first-born child in families with multiple children. Speaking as a first-born child, I say that's just fine with me.

When strangers fawn over Laura, talking about how cute and sweet and well-mannered she is, the inevitable question always is-do I have other children? Once I answer no, some become appalled and demand that I MUST have another. And I wonder; does Laura suddenly seem less cute and less sweet and less well-mannered now that they know I don’t have 2 other kids at home?

Someone recently told me that Laura wouldn’t be able to be empathetic if she didn’t have siblings. You mean my daughter who cries when I hurt myself? My daughter who worries about her friends if they have a bad day at school? My sweet little girl who spent one entire day last week giving pep talks to the trouble-maker in her class? And the whole stereotype of only children not being able to share and play nicely with other children? That theory has been dashed to the ground over and over again by Laura. A recent playtime with some of her friends gave me this gem, straight from her mouth: “Why don’t we all share the doll house so everyone gets to play?” That stopped the squabbling of her guests (who are older than her, and siblings to boot!)

Having siblings is wonderful. I have some and they’re all lovely. Sometimes I’m so ridiculously sad that Laura doesn’t have that in her life, but siblings are no guarantee of happiness. Siblings are no guarantee of anything. Siblings are not the be all, end all, in a child’s life. I refuse to have another child simply to give Laura a sibling. I would only have another child if that is what the Army Man and I decided was right for us, the ones who would be raising and caring for that child.

And to reference the title of my post, there are so many wonderful things about having an only child. I don’t want to start listing them all here, because I might make people with multiple kids jealous! Suffice it to say, we are a happy family, and Laura is a happy and well-adjusted little girl. Isn’t that all any parent wants for their child?

(And of course I have to add the caveat that this isn’t to say that I might not have another baby someday. Who knows? I’m only 29 and thus far my life has been the exact opposite of how I planned it. But whether I end up the mother of one child, or ten, I will always say that only children are wonderful.)

Modern Women Of Sewing

Oh, how I wished closer to New York and could attend this Modern Women Of Sewing event. I suppose I am somewhat modern, and I do sew after all. Those three presenters? Well, they're awesome and hip and downright famous in the modern sewing world. And they'll be speaking, for free, at a library! Even though I can't attend, I'm pretty tickled to see that these busy women are participating in such a great event. I wonder how likely it is that they will come to North Carolina next.

Ring Of Fire

It's been a while since Laura has serenaded the blogosphere. Luckily for each of you, I caught her on video last night singing along with one of her favorite songs. I'm not very good at filming her all stealth-like, and she figured out pretty quickly what I was doing. So be sure to imagine her belting it out much more enthusiastically than she is here, since she felt "shy" once I started filming. Without further ado, Laura chaneling Johnny Cash.

Beautiful North Carolina

It's been almost 5 years that I've lived here in North Carolina. Falling in love with North Carolina isn't hard. It's beautiful. The Army Man and I often talk about how much we love it here. It's been a wonderful place to start our lives as a family. It feels like home. That's not to say that we don't miss California. Because of course we do. We miss our families, first and foremost. We want to live close to them and see them on every holiday and birthday. We want Laura to know them better than just through phone calls and the occasional visit. Sometimes I want that life so badly that it brings me to tears.

But one thing I've learned is that the quickest way to an unhappy life is to focus on the negatives. When I start complaining about how much I miss California and our families, it makes it a lot harder to love living in North Carolina. And that's not fair, because it's wonderful here. Nature in North Carolina is fantastic: the seasons change and we even get leaves falling to the ground, along with the occasional snow day. The "liberal Californian" in me can't help but chuckle when the marquee at the Shell station reminds me to pray daily. The Army Man and I have had the opportunity to buy a home, something that probably never would have happened back in the land of half-million dollar starter homes. And like California, we have it all-the beach and mountains. We're close to so many things and since we've lived here we've had the chance to visit Florida, South Carolina, Washington DC, Pennsylvania and New York. We've even talked about retiring in North Carolina. It's been a wonderful 5 years here, and I look forward to at least a few more, if the Army is willing.

The local lake just about two miles from our home.

Halloween 2009

You know what's a really bad idea? Taking your daughter to Joann's to just "look" at Halloween costume patterns. Because you're not leaving without a pattern and a promise, A PROMISE, to make your daughter a Snow White costume. That's what happened to me this summer. I've never made Laura a costume before, but luckily I was smart and started working on it a long time ago, took my time, and made it perfectly.

Okay, so obviously that is a lie. Yes, I bought the pattern and made the promise back in June, but I didn't start working on the costume until the 20th. Of October. It was really, really hard and I don't ever want to do that again. But somehow I managed it. The inside of the costume looks absolutely horrendous, but I really don't care. Laura seemed to really like it, and I thought she looked adorable. She makes a good Snow White. I really wish she could wear it again next year, but I don't think it will fit, and I get the feeling that I'll be making another promise this coming June.

Laura posing with our pumpkinsWith a better smile this timeMoxie didn't want to be left out, so she her picture taken while looking extra cuteWith Daddy at the local "Trunk-Or-Treat"Mommy and Laura getting excited about candy

Reenacting the hot dog photo from last year

We had a great time tonight and are now the proud owners of way too much candy. Also, for those who care, my hair is not black like the picture might have you believe.

My First Kidlife Crisis

kidlife crisis n (2009): a period of emotional turmoil that occurs when a parent realizes that his or her once tiny baby is no longer so tiny, and has reached a previously unimaginable age. The parent views this marching of time as unacceptable. Longing for the child's younger days, the parent may spend hours browsing old photographs, watching home movies, and sighing over babies.*

So, I've experienced my first kidlife crisis. It started back in September, when the preparations for Laura's birthday began. I really couldn't believe she was about to be five. Five is old. Five is a big kid, not a baby. Five is the age that other kids are, but not my little girl, no sir. She's a baby and will be staying that way. Not that I think she's an infant, or treat her as such, but when I see a lady out and about with a baby in an infant carrier, sometimes I find myself thinking, "Isn't that nice that we both have babies." Then I realize that my baby is actually off at pre-K and she weighs 35 pounds and just that morning had a discussion with me about our dog's uterus (note: oh yes, we really did have that conversation!) Not such a baby anymore, I suppose.

I imagine I'll have similar crises as she gets older. The Army Man and I always joke about what trouble she's going to be as a teenager, and I don't doubt it. But I truly can't even imagine what that will be like. No more than I could have imagined her as a 5 year old when she was brand new. It's simply unfathomable. I look at her and try to picture her going to elementary school, calling friends on the phone, driving, dating, going to college, getting married, having her own children. But all I see is a little baby, screaming and crying for one reason or another. Or a tiny little girl, laughing that deep, crazy belly laugh that only little kids can manage. It's like "Father Of The Bride", only a million times more so.

And so, as I sat there one night, experiencing my kidlife crisis, I looked through old pictures of Laura and I wrote this piece (or whatever you want to call it). I'm not sure how much sense it makes, but it felt wonderful to write, and I think I'll share it. Be warned: since this post is written by a Mommy about her child, it's going to be a long one.

I’m the brand new mother to a tiny little baby. She’s bald and thin, and she cries all the time. All she ever wants to do is nurse, and she never spits up. Her poop is disgusting and no diaper can hold it in. She must be carried horizontally to the changing table, like an offering, to avoid leakage. She never wants to sleep. Her bouncy seat is what I put her in at 3am to get her back to sleep, to keep her quiet so she doesn’t wake up her grandparents whom we’re living with. Her Daddy is back in Georgia finishing his Army training. He made it in time to see her be born, but had to leave when she was three days old. I’m a disappointed mother. This experience is nothing like what I had imagined: there’s no nursery that I lovingly decorated ahead of time. My husband wasn’t home to run out and buy me ice cream when I was pregnant. I don’t even live in my own house. I’m moving in just a few weeks, across the country, away from my family and friends. I’m sad and scared, but would never tell anyone. I’m a confused mother. I didn’t feel the instant love for my daughter that I thought I should. I don’t feel like a natural. I’m in pain, trying to recover from a childbirth experience that was more traumatic than I ever could have imagined. I feel completely unprepared to be responsible for this tiny, beautiful little girl. I feel young and old all at once. I never knew I could love someone so much.
I’m the exhausted mother of a tiny little girl. She’s one and never sleeps. Eating is a disaster. She’s always choking on her food, and she doesn’t want to use the sippy cup. She’s been walking for almost 3 months now. She hates shoes and always wants to be barefoot. She’s still bald, but she’s gorgeous. Pale white skin and beautiful blue eyes. A tiny little thing, occasionally mistaken for a doll. She is the center of attention everywhere she goes. She waves to strangers and people can’t seem to resist stopping to talk to her. She’s starting to talk, saying “dog” as her very first word. I never knew I could love someone so much.
I’m the exasperated mother of a tiny toddler. She’s two and she’s into everything. She loves to dance. She goes to daycare and is the favorite of her teacher. She gives up the ‘pa-pa’ (pacifier) in exchange for a doodle pad. She gets her tonsils and adenoids removed and can suddenly eat without choking. She’s insanely energetic and always trying to give me a heart attack with her antics-jumping off the couch, playing by the stairs, running away in stores. She starts to grow a little bigger. She learns to use the potty and never has a single nighttime accident. Daytime is an entirely different story. She favors her Daddy yet always calls for me at night. Her smile is so charming and silly, and her pout is just delightful. I never knew I could love someone so much.
I’m the desperate mother of a little minion of the devil. She’s three and has stopped napping. She’s still not sleeping through the night. She’s making me realize the terrible two’s are nothing. She misses her Daddy who’s gone for six months. She cries and screams and whines and makes me contemplate locking myself in my bedroom. She’s getting smarter every day. She knows her last name, she’s dressing herself. She loves princesses. She knows how to use the digital camera and always wants to take pictures. She plays pretend games with me. She tells me hysterical, clever things like, “We have a situation” which make up for all of the grief she gives me. I never knew I could love someone so much.I’m the hopeful mother of a not-so-tiny little girl. She’s four and she’s staring to behave. She’s growing like crazy. She talks all the time. I’m continually amazed by the things that she says. She wants to learn about the human body. She’s sensitive and caring. She loves going to preschool and is friends with all the boys. She loves to sing. She dresses herself and favors her pink tutu and blue boots. She has an imaginary friend named “Little Bug” who is constantly causing trouble. He has to be spanked frequently. She loves playing outside. I never knew I could love someone so much.
I’m the mother of the most beautiful, smartest, funniest five year old girl. She is dramatic. She is outgoing. She is sweet. Something about her personality is magnetic. Her teachers love her. The kids in her class always want to play with her. If we go to a store, the clerks want to give her things (candy seems to be the most popular offering). She prides herself on following the “rules” and loves to discuss other people who don’t. She is very concerned about safety. She’s bossy but not in a forceful way (most of the time). She’s stubborn and wants to get her way, yet continually surprises me with her generous nature. She hates to lose any game we play. She’s extremely sensitive and empathetic, and will cry if someone else is in pain. She hates shots but loves the doctor. Her scream is eardrum piercing. Suddenly she’s interested in babies and loves to hold their hands and help them walk around. I’m shocked that my rough and tumble girl holds their hands so gently and sweetly. She never stops talking. She loves to spell words and will approach me and say in one long drawn out breath, “How to you spell ‘I love you so much and you are my best friend and I want to play with you’?” and expect me to sit there and dictate the entire sentence to her. The excuse “That’s how God made me” is heard frequently from her. She loves drawing and does a better job at it than her mother. She tells me she loves me and it's the best feeling in the world.

I never could have imagined what having a child would be like, but it’s fantastic. Loving someone so much is easy when she’s Laura.

*A million kudos and thanks to my friend Angela for coming up with this oh-so-clever name. I think it's a stroke of genius. I do however, give myself credit for writing the definition.

October 8th

I'm really having a hard time believing that Laura is 5 today. When did this happen and where did my tiny baby go? I'd like to write more on the subject, but today is so busy, and tomorrow we're going out of town for a while, so hopefully I'll be able to post a belated birthday post when we get back.

October 8, 2004October 8, 2005October 8, 2006October 8, 2007October 8, 2008
October 8, 2009

A Beautiful Wedding

We spent the weekend in Charleston again, this time to celebrate the wedding of my cousin Shirley. The wedding was so much fun! Shirley looked breathtaking and the ceremony was so sweet and heartfelt, filled with plenty of laughter (my favorite type of ceremony!) It was held at a beautiful house by the water, and the food was delicious. I got to see some relatives that I haven't seen for quite a while, which was awesome. Laura got to play with all of her cousins, and the Army Man even went so far as to dance with me. Must have been something in the drinks….

As usual I did a terrible job of taking pictures. I never remembered to get a picture of the three of us together. In fact, I don’t have any good pictures of us! I can vouch for us though-Laura was adorable, the Army Man looked great and my dress was very cute (at least I thought so). Enjoy the few pictures I did take!

Laura and Daddy before the ceremonyLaura and Mommy before the ceremony

Shirley dancing with her father

Sam and Fisher not understanding what all the fuss is about

Eden and Estelle, proving that our family produces the most adorable kids

Laura and Campbell at the brunch after the wedding

Serging Ahead

Want to see something that’s intimidating to even a somewhat experienced seamstress?
That’s right, a serger. I’m terrified of it. Or correction, I was. Until I saved up my pennies, bought a relatively cheap one (don’t want to make my cheapo sewing machine from Sears jealous) and decided that there is absolutely no reason to be afraid of a machine. If even it does have two needles, four spools of thread, 2 knives to cut the fabric (and possibly your finger), 2 owner’s manuals and 2 instructional DVDs, and a host of other weird accessories.

A serger is a type of sewing machine, I suppose. It doesn’t sew just a straight stitch; you still need a traditional sewing machine for that. This is the machine that makes clothes look really professional. If you’re wearing a shirt right now-and I hope you are because I prefer my readers not be topless-then you can check out the hem of your shirt and see what I mean. All that stitching, that looks all complicated and fancy-it’s what’s keeping the fabric from unraveling when it’s washed. And now, that’s a look I can achieve on my dresses. It probably won’t be quite as nice as some manufactured clothes (I’ve heard some sergers have up to 10 different threads going at a time!!) but I made a test dress while using it, and I’m really pleased with the results.

Look at that stitching!

It also goes ridiculously fast, and so far it’s definitely cut down on my sewing time. Although having to go back and forth between my two machines is something I’m still getting used to, and I don’t quite have it all down to an exact science yet. I'm sure if I videotaped my sewing process and sped it up, it would be quite entertaining. Here's to hoping that soon I'll be churning out dresses like crazy!

The Revenge Of The Fly

This California girl is well-versed in the agony and frustration of ants. Those obnoxious little buggers that seem to find whatever food you leave out and descend upon it. Those little devils that have no issue breaking into your garage, your pantry, even your bedroom-just ask my brother Kurt about the time he went to put on his pajamas as a kid only to discover them COVERED with ants (we were puzzled as to why the pajamas appeared to be moving). They are everywhere. They are unstoppable. They are….nothing, NOTHING, compared to flies.

A simple line of ants, so simple to spray with some ant spray and kill. What I wouldn’t give for that pest problem! Here, not only do we have horrible fire ants outside, but the inside of our houses are constantly being overrun by flies. I’m starting to suspect there is a tiny little fly door in one of my windows (I imagine it like a tiny doggie door, only made out of netting that can easily been flown through). It is ridiculous how many flies I have to deal with on a daily basis! Days that involve outside playtime are the worst. I might as well stand at the door and just usher them in and get it over with:

"Please, come in! I can offer you some leftover crackers that Laura left in a bowl by the couch, and I’m sure there are plenty of crumbs on the carpet. Don’t forget to stop by Moxie’s bowl for a quick drink and browse the kitchen counter for tasty morsels that I may have overlooked! It’s also a delightful day for buzzing around my head as I cook, so be sure not to miss that opportunity."

Sometimes they appear out of nowhere, when the door hasn’t been opened for hours. They always seem to locate the nearest human and incessantly buzz them. When they’re invading, eating inside my house is like eating at outside at a picnic. You can’t leave anything edible out, because you know the fly is landing on it and doing a little dance just to spite you, just to show you the power it holds over you. Ants thinking of attacking your food? No big deal, just move the food to another spot. Flies bent on sampling your pot roast? Well, you better shovel it down because the flies will land on it, even as you eat it. The rest of the dinner, still hot in the pan on the stove? Transfer it straight to the fridge, food safety be damned! That’s the only way to keep it safe, unless one gets into the fridge (yes, that has happened to me).

It’s amazing how much your life can start to revolve around flies. It’s not uncommon for the Army Man and I to stand in the kitchen chatting while one of us holds the fly swatter. We've started complimenting each other on particularly gory or spectacular kills. The best is the mid-air swat. Yep, we've both managed to snatch a fly’s life during flight. It’s awesome. Laura’s method is to trap the fly between the window and the blinds, and smush. There is usually sound involved, followed by the victory shouts of my bloodthirsty daughter. I always discourage this, but I won’t deny having resorted to it myself. Moxie tries to help, chasing them and snapping at them. That form of entertainment is the one redeeming fly trait.

I’ve had flies rise from the dead and fly out of the trash can once I open it to deposit another of their deceased brethren. I’ve had a few fly relationships last days or more…a few days after a madly buzzing fly zips around the kitchen, I’ve found it limping along in my bedroom or laying pathetically on the stairs. I feel no sympathy as I kill it-only disgust wondering where it was all those days and if it was walking on me as I slept.

Today’s tally stands at nine killed, an undetermined number still at large. I can't wait for the winter.

Charleston Trip

It's not often that the Army Man informs me that we are taking a weekend trip anywhere, so when he does, I say "yes please!" without even worrying about where we're heading. He chose a great spot to go last weekend-Charleston, South Carolina. He went a few weeks back on some training and had a great time, and he wanted to go back again with the whole family (except Moxie. Sorry, dog). It was a short trip, just Friday-Sunday, and although I was momentarily afraid for our safety when I saw our hotel, it was a fantastic trip!

If you live in California, surely you know of the Roxford exit off of the 5? Well that should give you an idea of what the area our hotel was in was like. Charleston is a beautiful town, so we were quite shocked when our directions directed us to a rather shabby looking hotel in an even shabbier part of town. Inside the hotel and was nice and clean, and with the Army Man there to protect the family, I knew we would be fine. But I learned my lesson about booking hotels online!

Friday we walked around in the beautiful downtown area and ate dinner right by the water. Saturday we hit up the aquarium and the beach. The aquarium was nice but small, and the four penguins that call the aquarium home were the saddest looking bunch I've ever seen. They made me much too sad to enjoy them, even though Laura kept reminding me how much I like penguins (in case I forgot). Right next to the aquarium was a small Ft. Sumter museum with the tattered remains of the giant American flag that once lived at Ft. Sumter. A replica hung on the wall-it was gigantic!

After that, we went to the beach which was so much fun. It was ridiculously crowded, but the water was very warm and the weather was great. We all went pretty far into the water and I was loving it until a wave knocked me over and swept away my sunglasses. The Army Man and I searched in vain for them-the most perfect sunglasses I've ever owned. Later, I rested on the sand while Laura and the Army Man went far, far into the water to see just how tense Mommy could get. At one point they were out farther than anyone else! But of course Laura loved it and the Army Man was pleased that his plan to torture me worked. That evening we visited all too briefly with my cousin Shirley and her daughter Eden. Eden just turned 2 and is so stinkin' cute! Laura was too glued to the TV to pay much attention to Eden, and it was weird for me seeing that Laura really is a big kid now-she looked so much older and bigger than Eden.

Sunday was a lazy day for us and we never did make it to Ft. Sumter. I guess we'll have to save that for the next trip! Now, what you've all been waiting for: the pictures. I have a ton of Laura from the beach, and couldn't decide which ones were the best, so I posted a lot. Enjoy!

Laura and Daddy, enjoying dinner by the water Me at dinner, getting the obligatory photo take to prove I was thereThe USS YorktownThe source of my near panic attackLooking at Ft. SumterLaura being cute

The Gospel Truth

According to Laura, after she stumbled over the words in a song:

I am not a professional singer because I'm not that good, but I am a professional draw-er.

PS. We are currently delighting in all that Charleston, SC has to offer our family. Since we love history, shopping, the beach, and cool architecture, it turns out it has quite a bit to offer. I'll post pictures soon after we return home, provided I don't die of a panic attack when we have to drive over yet another of the highest and longest bridges I have ever seen. My water and heights phobias have never been better, thanks for asking!

You See What I'm Dealing With

Poor Laura, dealt a boring mother who doesn't ever seem to want to play, and when she does play, doesn't do it right. Laura is even forced, on occasion, to entertain herself or clean her own room. To make up for these injustices, is Laura given a pool? A pony? A cell phone? Even a TV in her room? No. None of these requests have yet to be granted.

When Laura's mother has the audacity to ask for a few quiet minutes to get ready to go out to dinner, how does Laura respond? With complaints, harassment of her mother, and the sporadic karate chop, naturally. When her mother, who can't take it a moment longer, tells her to go find something to do or else be forced to clean the kitchen floor, how does Laura respond?

"That sounds like fun!"

Vogue!

Poor Laura. She's been forced to be my model these last few months as I've attempted to take cute pictures of my creations to put on my Etsy site. It's really been tough on her-you know how much she hates the spotlight. And how much she detests getting her picture taken. Oh wait, that's me I'm thinking about! In reality, Laura has absolutely loved getting to model my clothes for me, except for the times I interrupt her during an important task (usually coloring). I usually get a few cute pictures that I can't post on Etsy but seem too good to waste, so I thought I'd post a few of them here. The first two are of my latest shirts.

All of these poses are her own doing, naturally.

I love her faux surprise in this one.Oh so sweet. Yeah right.

I'm sure I'll be back soon with more, seeing as I don't think Laura will EVER tire of getting her picture taken.

Laura's Sewing Creation

Today I was working on a new appliqued shirt, and Laura wanted to help. When she was younger, she was easily bought off with a piece of fabric and a needle; she would "sew" in that manner for a good 30 minutes. Recently we progressed to actual thread in the needle, and she would just pull it in and out of the fabric. Today however, she would not be placated with any of those options. She wanted to sew something onto fabric, preferably the shirt I was working on. I was able to convince her to sew with a piece of fabric of her own, so I cut out a little flower from one of my scraps, gave her the threaded needle, and told her to have fun.

She came to me a few times needing me to re-thread the needle (can't wait for her to be able to do that on her own!) but other than that I didn't hear anything from her for about 20 minutes. When she came back, this is what she had created.

(Click picture to enlarge)

I have to admit, I was pretty amazed. I didn't think it would occur to her how to sew the flower on. She did a great job, and even wrote everyone's name (in marker) on the fabric. I promised her I would share her handiwork on my blog, and I'm proud to do so. Pretty good for a 4 year old, right?