Come on, sleepy head! It's time to wake up! Your Mom wants to meet you…well, see you—I said yesterday morning to a very groggy little feller. He kept snuggling back inside the blankets, just tossing and turning, and giggling away as I tickled his feet. The day was dark, so I suppose there wasn't much encouragement to get out bed and take off your pjs in exchange for play clothes. But, the day was young and we had errands to do.
He was finally bribed with an overflowing bowl of strawberries and then I had second thoughts about my brilliant idea of getting him up early. The energy levels went through the roof and more than once I found myself gasping for breath to keep up, aching back and tired calves. Little boys are a bit too much work for this mother of girls.
We cleaned the yard, explanation: I cleaned the yard while he messed up all the yard work, asked a hundred questions, begged to help him build a sand castle, etc. We had a little swim, we followed the chickens trying to find their rogue nest ( I am really getting tired of this hide and seek game with the eggs ), we tried to pull some weeds ( those things pack some muscle! ), we took the puppy for two very interesting walks, we climbed a tree, we saw three blue jays, we found a dead hummingbird ( is there anything more precious than their little iridescent feathers? I wonder.), we watched we deep interest that last year the Birdsfoot Trefoil bloomed much earlier, but it is only now, almost at the end of July that this beautiful wildflower, accompanied by the pretty Dame's Rocket, are making their gallant entry into our roads and fields. I also explained to Zane that I am waiting for the Staghorn Sumac to be ready for harvest, as we intend on trying on the theory that you can make something close to lemonade with its berries, and since we won't be able to nurse a lemon tree, we are trying alternate routes to satisfy the thirst of an aching heart.
The day was very productive, knitting was achieved, Zane played all day, many snacks were polished off by his little hungry mouth and we both went to bed absolutely exhausted. This morning though, there was no need to usher him out of bed, he was already dressed and playing in the school room by the time I got up.
I think Little Zane knew that his time was up. The time to go and meet his real family. I get a little sad, and sometimes I just get busy with other things so I don't have to confront the fact that the doll is finished and I have nowhere to run: I have to send them home. Being surrounded by other dolls that require equal, if not more, amount of attention and work is the only medicine I have found to work in these dreadful cases. So I try my best to create work for me to absorb my mind with, so by the time they are ready to leave me, there is always someone else tinkling their little nose at me. I am so sneaky, I know.
Working on Zane was nothing short of an adventure. Every time I sewed a stitch on this doll I had a photo of the real boy he was made after. I read and re-read many times what his Mother shared with me about her son's personality. I envisioned the real Zane, absorbed in his play, and wondered wether they would be the same: the doll and him. This doll is for his Mother, not for Zane to play with. A little reminder of what he liked, who he was, and the way he looked when he was this little. A kind of memento to a very fleeting moment in the life of our children. As a mother, and doll maker, I can see the profound value in such a request. And while it is not the first time I make a doll in this manner, this was the first time I understood that I won't have a real boy, such as Zane, in my life. Mothering children stopped at two girls for me, I am OK with that, because I can live my wishes and dreams through these beautiful wool children of mine. People grant me the opportunity to exercise my mothering muscles by constantly creating dolls for them.
So it is almost time to pack this cute little fella, and send him home to his real Mother's arms. I wonder what the real Little Zane will say when he looks at him…will he realize that it looks like him? will he be intrigued? will he be inclined to play with him? I do know his Mother won't be able to help herself from hugging him and kissing him, because I haven't stopped. Good bye my beautiful boy, I know you are going to the best place for you in the world. Don't forget to write!.