Basket of Love

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the number of moments that take our breath away”.

Or indulging myself in a dose of blogger license, “…by the number of Dear Diary Moments”.


This Sunday past, H and I co-hosted a baby shower for one of our expat friends at H’s house. M set the ball rolling when she threw one for me. Stealing some ideas from my shower, I came up with a holiday themed belly measuring tool – a garland of snow flakes. I had the vague idea that I would cut it up to size and make a waist band out of it for mom-to-be. Didn’t happen. You know what else didn’t happen? A name game. I asked dad-to-be all kinds of questions before the shower but forgot to ask – have you picked out a name? Apparently, they have, and as the big game was going to be with names…you get the picture!


I did however, follow through on the fruit basket with mini-heart windows, carved out of the flesh of a watermelon. The idea blossomed merely to make a fruit container. It shaped into a theme underlying the main theme – the baby shower. A woman protecting within her, her precious little, tiny little baby, her own flesh and blood; her eyes, windows into her heart and soul as she gazes at her newborn. Love, welling up from within. Soft and tender.


Wishing F a magical journey into motherhood. Wishing mothers everywhere. Happy Motherhood! Because we’re magic.

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