I look at my daughters sometimes, three of them, and wonder.
They are all so smart, and so beautiful. But most of all, they have character, and I like them.
That is one of those priceless things in life, that we dare not expect, and when it happens, it makes everything else pale in comparison.
Believe me, I wasn't always the best mother. I tried, but I know, in my heart, that I fell short many times.
Somehow, they managed to not only get through it, but to be better than me.
For that, I am grateful.
Yesterday we celebrated the birthday of my first baby. I am not allowed to call her my "oldest".
But she is a sweet and loving woman with a crazy sense of humor. She works hard, and I am very proud of her.
Gabby said it best, with what she wrote on the envelope of her card.
She calls my first born Aunt Baba.
It says, "to the magnifusin Aunt Buba."
Don't even THINK of trying to take my CUPCAKE.
I thank you for all your encouragement, but honestly, a book????
For my babblings?
Be serious. Be nice, but be serious!
Besides, I am SOOOOOOO busy. Cutting socks, sewing socks, cutting fabric, warping looms, weaving rugs, running the studio, being a Mimi, teaching my apprentice to be as good a weaver as she can be, driving my DH crazy, being a good daughter, and working on the mother thing.
I don't think I can write a book.
Besides, I am writing it, right here and right now, for a limited audience of good friends, who keep coming back to hear it.
And who keep coming back to see what I am weaving up next.
It doesn't get any better than that.