Hi there. I woke up at 4:00 a.m. (which in my addled brain was three a.m.) to a blood-curdling shriek. No mere scream was this noise- it was decidedly a shriek that said to me, "Oh holy GOD an axe-wielding psychopath is STABBING my baby right next to me." My ears rang as I curled around my girl, and she kicked me away, apparently sleeping then in perfect contentment. I was awake all morning, lying by her still sweetness wondering if I was in for night terrors or if this was an isolated thing.
Just background. Wow. So. About week ago, I guess, Molly's Papaw told her about dreamcatchers. He used to make them as a hobby, and he planted this little seed in her brain and she has since decided they are a necessity. She has one, pink and fluffy from her Great-Aunt Pam from my baby shower, but we can't find it since we Freecycled the crib.
Given last night's fun, we asked the Grandies if they had an extra dreamcatcher around, and they found a broken-ish one. Molly and I repaired it (OK sort of... but the messiness is very charming, non?) and raided my studio for embellishments.
We ended up using 2 of my mom's earrings, a peacock feather, (because I dig the East Indian vibe way more than the misnamed-Indian vibe myself) and an owl brooch from my shop.
It is a gorgeous little project, and though I called it a Metaphysical Placebo, I am certain it will trap the bad mojo, Morpheus willing.
You didn't think I was going to forget to sneak in gratuitous Birdy-Cuteness, did you?