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It's the Little Things (Why I might be behind on emails...)

Some weeks ago, the girls came to me with their beloved little rag dolls in hand and questions in their eyes.

I'm honestly not sure how it started but somewhere they got the idea of having new dresses for their dolls.

My first reaction was a flat no. It's the middle of summer; there's always butter and cheese to make, garden produce to pull, weeds to subdue, besides the twice daily rounds of chores that produces our grassfed and finished beef, pastured pork and pastured chicken.

I had it on the tip of my tongue, as I stood there washing dishes and wiping crumby counters. I had my back to them and I knew I could say no, knew that though they'd be disappointed, they'd probably run off and play again. Even though I love to sew, I dearly wanted to say no.

But something made me turn around and look into those eager eyes. Something made me take note of the pleading questions, their eager eyes, they way they twirl their dolls when they have something to ask.

I looked at them and I said yes. They jumped and danced and barely heard the condition I tacked onto the end, that if I was going to sew doll dresses I was going to need some of their help.

Together we went to the office, to my ever expanding box of fabric scraps. Oh the shrieks of delight as they dug through the box. While they were doing that I was digging for my pattern and digging out the surface of the kitchen table from under its load.

At length, with great deliberation and discussions and "Mommy, should I choose this one?" they both had a piece of fabric and some fancy sewing notions in hand.

While they cleaned up the floor and worked at some simple supper prep, I snipped and sewed and serged.

45 min later, I had a dress ready to present to an eager daughter whose eyes absolutely popped.

The next day, we repeated the process for the second daughter. And oh the hours of fun they have had with their dolls, Charlotte and Tina and their new dresses.

I told Jesse that night that I had spent 1 hour that I didn't have in the middle of a busy day sewing dresses for little dolls.

He became really thoughtful as I was expressing how I felt like there were so many things I should be doing.

"In 20 years, people aren't going to remember that the newsletter wasn't on time or that email response wasn't within 24 hours. But our girls will remember you stopping to make some doll dresses for them."

And that, my friends, is why I'm sometimes late to emails and newsletters:)

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