She waits patiently while I photograph the moment when I take her between my knees as I did with her sister a few days ago, and as my own mother did with me when I was small. She's afraid of the needle, so I put her in charge of raising and lowering the foot, and pushing the "reverse".
She drew portraits of her loved ones on scraps of fabric, which I then stitched with coloured floss (she carefully chose the colours that are the favourites of the recipients). Then we sewed them together, and top-stitched around the edges.
These book marks, inspired by the always-inspiring Amanda Blake-Soule, were a perfect project for the attention span and general impatience of a three-year-old. She printed the letters and drew the hearts herself. I know that down through the years, Daddy will smile at how she always draws him with extraordinarily long legs (from her perspective, they are that long) and a tiny head (it must look tiny way up there in the clouds). Jude is always smiling in her portraits, and Violet's hair is always tousled. When she draws me, my wildly curly hair cascades to the floor, my eyes are big and blue, and I'm always wearing a purple dress.
A new tradition has begun in our home, and everyone loves it: spending a day alone with mama, creating handmade Christmas gifts for siblings.