I have memories from a very early age of my mother's and her mother's baby dolls. I knew she really cherished them because she always kept them carefully wrapped up. Occassionally, she would get them out and I could look at them but as much as I begged, she wouldn't let me play with the baby dolls.
The one lying on the left was my mother's. The one sitting up on the right was her mother's. Grandma's had real hair and a ceramic(?) head which had been broken and glued back together. Oh yes, and the baby lying in the middle - that's me at about 2 months of age! This is definitely one for the Heirloom Book.
© 2010, copyright Michelle Goodrum