Handprints

Avery is growing by leaps and bounds. So much so that I feel like I've missed the past six, no seven, months, and want to relive them all over again. As tough as it was, I could so easily and happily go through the sleep deprivation, labor recovery, frustration, terror, spray poop, and whiny screaming again just for one or two sweet gummy 3-month-old smiles. So I'm desperate to preserve just a little of this tiny-ness. Sure, I have her clothes, but now that she's outgrown them it seems more like they were for a tiny doll instead of this larger-than-life imp taking a nap in the other room.

My good friend Rebecca has the sweetest handprint hanging in her breakfast nook of her husband and son's hands together, like Avery's hand is in Mike's above. The highest form of flattery is imitation, so of course I was dying to have one done with our little monster. I was thrilled when Rebecca told me that Mitzi, who owns the business Handprints by Mitzi, was coming to Sweet Dreams to take handprints that next week. I didn't want to be left out of the fun, so we asked Mitzi at Sweet Dreams if my hand could be in on it too. I love how teeny tiny her hands are within ours and that we have hard, physical evidence of her size relative to us. And I love how the sandy beige of the glaze goes with the blue in her room. This plaque is now one of my favorite treasures.

Avery had a kick making these prints too. I suppose she felt like a movie star.