Child Style

I know it has been awhile since I posted over there, but I have a new post up, today.  Do you get heart palpatians when you shop for swimsuits for your little girl or girl teenager?  Well, join the club.  Please tell me your position on this heavily debated (and I mean on Mommy boards everywhere) topic.

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It’s Vocabulary Time with Southern Dad

This morning, as I hit the snooze button for the second time, I was awakened loudly by a little girl that refuses to sleep pass 3am, these days.  {Oh did you think that sleep problems were only for the small and immobile.  Yeah me, too.  I am coming to realize that sleep problems get worse as kids get older, because they have the ability to wander the house unattended.  Which is fine, as long as you let sleeping parents lie.}  I jumped from my bed, because it is picture day.  Must. Stop. Child. From. Picking. Out. Her. Own. Clothes. For. PICTUREDAY!  I had explained to Amber that she would have to wear something nice for school today.  I should have further explained that nice meant something nice for normal little 5 yr old girls, not nice for rising teen starlets who need to hooker it up for the cameras.  *sigh*

I ran to her room and saw her standing in a denim skirt with mauve footless stockings searching for a shirt.  She wanted to wear what she wore to Catechism the night before.  My strategy with Amber is to minimize arguments as much as possible, so I had agreed to let her wear this outfit to church.  However, I would be damned if I was going to have photographic evidence of how I let my daughter dress to avoid a knock down, drag out fight.  So at 5:30 in the morning, Amber and I stood in her room throwing loud statements back and forth.  She wailed, screamed, stomped and I yelled, screamed, stomped and maybe threw a shirt or two.  Then I decided it was time for Amber to learn a little something about compromise.  I told her she could wear the plaid shirt she wanted, but she couldn’t wear the denim skirt with the tights.  Of course, I should have just stabbed her in the heart, which would have hurt much less than suggesting that she wear her new capri pants.  HOW DARE I?!  Where are the cops when a little girl needs justice?  Needless to say, she didn’t understand compromise and we both lost.  Which is the bastard definition of compromise: No one wins.  First causalty of Vocabulary time for the day.  And lesson 1 for me: arguments that are avoided one day will bite you in the ass another.

As her punishment and a way to get all of these small, loud and arugmentive people away from me, I told her that she could not watch TV and had to do her homework.  Take that loud and annoying little girl.  That will teach you to mess with me at 5:30 in the morning.  What I should have said was do the writing portion of your homework, so I don’t have to worry about it later.  What my husband heard was do the reading portion of your homework, so he can work on his laptop and pretend to listen.  Aren’t we the greatest parents around?   Lesson 2 for me: When trying to avoid parental duty, remember that the other parent, when left alone with children, will avoid his duty without your knowledge and you will end up with more work in the end.

As I was getting ready for the day, I heard a strange sound.  It sounded much like a boing from the cartoons. I ignored it, figuring that my mind was playing sleep deprived games on me.  I should have paid closer attention and raced downstairs before George gave his definition of one of Amber’s vocabulary words.  “Daddy, what does job mean?”.  That is when George’s ears perked up.  Here was his chance to give me grief and pass down his knowledge to the next generation.  George’s definition of ”job”: “Just Over Broke.  They give you enough to keep you coming back, but never enough to get you ahead”.  I had heard this definition enough during our dating time when I worked as a salesperson then manager of a retail store.  After my ears started to bleed with this constant propaganda, I decided to quit and let him support me.  That is when I decided he was right and I started my career as a pampered, middle class housewife.  You know, he is right.  I am much more ahead than I ever was with a J.O.B.  Lesson 1 for husband who thinks he is so clever: When you spew propaganda, people will begin to believe you and then it will bite you in the ass. 

Have fun on your NON-JOB, honey, I will be spending your money.   

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What is on your counter?

Let’s see a couple of remotes, because one controls the TV and the other is the hand of God (TiVo).  Plates from dinner that is still being eaten, yes at the counter and while watching TV.  The horror!  Some random mail that has been there all day and belongs to the husband, who knows that I hate having his crap on my counters all day.  And my head is just around the corner from exploding.  A child coloring while eating her dinner.  Mmmmm…missed that on the actual day of the photo.  And what else?  Oh yeah, doesn’t everyone have a bullet proof vest on their counter?

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Punking Our Little Girls

If you go on over to Child Style, you might discover what I want for Amber, but more importantly what I wish they made in my size.  I am not saying I would wear it, but it is nice to have the options and nice to know that I am not truly an old lady trying to relive my youth through my daughter.  Oh excuse me while I call my therapist.

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Beating the Heat

When summer started I said I was going to excercise.  It would be easy, we didn’t have to be anywhere and no schedule to keep us running most of the day.  The problem with this, besides the kids, is the heat.  Sure it is hot everywhere else in the country, but not everywhere experiences the constant sauna we have down here.  It is like walking in soup with a ton of bricks on your back while swimming in your own sweat.  Not pretty.  People melt right there on the street.  The rain has helped some, but it is even harder to convince the kids that walking in a monsoon is better.  You would think kids would love to splash in the rain and jump in puddles, but only if they never get wet.   

I use to belong to a gym.  It was so nice and expesenive.  I had 2 hours of me time and I used every bit of it.  I didnt see much weight lost, but hey there were TVs with cable on every piece of equipment and I could charge things to my ID.  I am not really sure why that was fun for me, but it was.  That was all it took for me to sign up.  I could watch trash TV and never realize I had just walked an hour on the treadmill.  I went 5 days a week, saw a consultant and did my weights and cardio, but it got boring.  Yes, even with the TV.  Not to mention that is was too much to pay for just me to go, but to have the husband and kid on the membership.  Just in case George ever got time to go or if we could ever manage to get it together to make it to the family pool.   Amber had to be a member, in order, to get the childcare.  We tried to use the other services offered.  The pool was almost resort worthy, but it was too far to justify packing up the kid and our stuff to spend an hour in the pool and then drive home soaking wet.  It is especially a no go with both kids.  Amber is too old for childcare, so I would have to pay for summer camp which meant that she would either go everyday or I would pay for days that she didnt attend. And  I would rather not go through the torture screams of Sam as I waved good bye.  He is a stubborn one and I know it would last much longer than Amber’s did.  She went about 2 days before she settled into the gym childcare.  I am sure Sam would have me running the trek from gym to childcare for a good 2 weeks.  My spirit is too broken.

So I joined the mall walkers of America.  No there is not an official club, but we have all seen the old people in the mall doing their daily walks and, yes, we have all made fun of them.  The mall walkers use to annoy me, along with kids, when I worked in the mall.  They complained about the nude mannequins in our store windows, you could hear the old men yaking all the way from the food court and those old ladies can trample you without noticing if you got in their way.  I thought to myself, how sad to be old and have to walk in the mall.  Well, guess what?  I am old and sad, because now I walk in the mall to get some excercise and hopefully chisel off some of my wide load.  Fergie maybe asking ”What is all that junk in my trunk?”, but I am hoping to drop some of it off before my trunk explodes and I am wearing nothing but stretch pants. 

 I dont think there is much of a choice and the kids seem okay with it.  Sam sat in the front of the Joovy Caboose enjoying all the old ladies making eyes at him and knowing that none of them could have him.  Amber told me she needed her excercise and decided to jog next to me.  She had perfect form, too, arms chest high and knees up.  She even started her rythmnic breathing after a couple of laps.  Amber is multi-talented, too.  She decided to become my stylist and  pointed out several items that she thought I might want to try.  Although, she did remark that I might stretch out the nice formal dresses in one store window.  Thanks, baby and I will remember to bring this up right after you have kids, someday.  I will call it bonding and you will call it revenge. 

It was productive.  I felt the burn and I broke a glisten.  You know Southern women dont sweat, we glisten.  We were able to do about 5 laps in 30 minutes.  I was hoping not to buy anything, but with Target right there I couldn’t deny it’s sweet talking in my ear.  I will have to work on that, because while I would like my ass a little lighter I would prefer that my wallet stay the same.  Now, if I can just stop that vicious disease of elbowitis.  You know where everytime your elbow bends some form of a ring ding falls into your mouth.     

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Parenting Tip: Simple Side of Life.

I know, you people are probably wondering what the hell is a girl on vacation doing still posting to her blog. Well, it is simple. What else can a girl do when she has to supervise a 3 hour naptime without making noise and with no light? Have a little rendez-vous with her laptop. It gives me a little alone time while the husband and daughter soak up rays in the pool. Don’t worry they are sporting SPF 50 that blocks both UVA and UVB (or whatever).

This post brought to mind something I think about sometimes and try to explain to my husband. I don’t know when he will start listening, he knows I am right ALL. THE. TIME. Keep it simple, people. Especially when the kids are young. As I hear, through Amber and from the mouths of the actual parents, what they have planned for their kids or the latest and greatest thing they have bought for their 4 yrs old I think, why set the bar so high? You only have further to fall as your kids get older.

I fell into the trap as a new parent. I shopped til I dropped when Amber was a baby, because 1. I was bored and 2. Amber needed things. The reality was I wanted to buy her things and I wanted to show off the top of the line items, especially clothes. Every 6 months I was getting rid of toys and at the beginning of each season Amber was getting a new wardrobe. Why, well she wasn’t playing with the toys and I hate clutter. Well, she was only 12 months old and, let’s face it, I wasn’t given her enough time to discover the toys. If she hadn’t touched it as soon as it hit the house, I figured she didn’t like it and out it went. I shudder at the waste of money and all those great toys. Now, when I have the impulse to buy the kids something, I think how much of my house space I really want to give up for the item. Usually, it goes back on the shelf.

My thought on the clothes was that she would grow out of them around when the seasons (well, our seasons down here in the Deep South) started to change. Besides, she needed to be prepared for the weather change. I soon discovered that I have small children (Yes, smaller than average. My daughter is almost 5 yrs old and the 3T bathing suit I bought her is too big.), so they can wear things much longer than most kids. Since, Amber’s growth rate has slowed down a bit, I have been able to put somethings, like shirts and skirts away for the next summer. She is currently wearing summer items from last summer. We really don’t need much to prepare for our winters, except maybe layers. No buying heavy coats for us. Mainly, Amber gets away with heavy sweaters and a light jacket.

I have learned a lot by the time Sam came along. He hasn’t gotten much in the way of brand new toys. He got his share of stuff at Christmas, but most of his toys were Amber’s. My husband nearly keeled over when he asked what Sam got for his birthday and I said a Britax carseat. You mean no toys? Hey, that Britax cost an arm and leg and it will serve him better than any crappy toy. Besides, Sam didn’t complain, so who was I to challenge that? About a month later, I discovered that actually I did buy him a birthday present. I had bought it months ago, but forgot. I have learned that I cant buy ahead, because I forget and end up buying more. So much for that bargain tip.

My point is this, when children are young they are simple creatures. A few toys are all they need and you will learn that they will turn what you have around the house into entertainment. Any mom who has found her child in a kitchen cabinet, knows that. The best thing you can do is get a big Rubbermaid tub and pack some toys away and rotate. The kids will think it is Christmas in July. I learned this living in a 2 story house with all the bedrooms upstairs. My kids don’t play in their bedrooms. I have, also, learned that kids can get overwhelmed with tons of toys, which has happened with Sam in the new playroom. Amber plays with the same toy for a long time, until something different catches her fancy.

I totally understand wanting to dress your kids in the latest fashion and why not now when you have full control. Trust me, you should save that money for when your little darling hits a certain age (I am not sure which age it is. Amber has started demanding certain clothes at the ripe old age of 5 yrs old, but she doesn’t know designers, yet.) and starts sulking in the store because she NEEDS the $80 jeans over the pair of Old Navy jeans you would like to get her. And maybe, just maybe (no guarantees), she might get use to the cheaper brands if that is all she is wearing, now. And don’t think you moms with boys are left out of this loop. I have seen many a boy demand the high end stuff in the clothing department, too. Just ask my father and stepmother. They will be happy to tell you the story of my brother and the $80 pair of jeans.

So the next time you meet that mom who goes off about her latest boutique find or the latest in outdoor play she got for her darling, just nod your head and be happy you have decided to stick to the simpler side of life. You can, also, picture that mom years from now shaking her head wondering why her child has the latest and greatest stuff but they cant make the mortgage payment. Trust me, I have seen it.

Blogger’s Note: This is in no way goes for moms. If you want a designer diaper bag, shoes, something that makes your life easier or anything else your heart desires, then get it. That is your reward for birthing those little people that drive you crazy and hard work you put in as a parent. I know the dads aren’t depriving themselves, or is that just my husband?

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International Bizarre

First, I would like to say that I love Amber’s school. It is more on the liberal arts side of things and I like it. However, with that said, I never thought how panic stricken I would became when this fine school would put on it’s fabulous extra activities. I am still waking from nightmares from the whole Mardi Gras event earlier this year.

I think the problem comes in with me wanting her to participate in all the activities and not wanting to feel like the crappiest mother on the block. Another problem is I am not creative, cant sew, not good at the Google and spend most days staring off into space wondering what the hell to do.

Amber has an International Bazaar, tomorrow. The 8th graders are supplying the merchandise and the pre grades are providing the money and excitement for crap that will be lost or throw away before the end of school. There have been notes sent home encouraging us to dress our kids in costumes from our heritage. Or to have the kids make flags from the motherland.

How do you dress a child in a costume of their heritage, if you are a mutt? Let’s see my father’s family is Italian, my mother’s family is French, German and English. I think my husband’s family is Swedish and French. Well, none of those countries spring any costumes to mind. I sat and ponder, since last week, what I could do to represent one of these fine countries. I tried Googling for better ideas, but you try putting in “French costume for kids” and see what you get. I got nothing but slutty French maid costumes. I am sure it is a great representation of France, but putting my little girl in fishnets and black pumps just gave me the creeps. So I sat and pondered some more:

Italian options: think Lucille Ball stomping grapes, little pinstriped suit and Tommy gun, red and white plaid tablecloth with pasta and a bottle of wine
French: Think Marie Antoinette (many disturbing visions)–headless Marie, Marie with cake, my little girl with a very high white wig. I could slap a beret on her head and call it a day.
German: The teacher did offer us Lederhosen, but Amber looked as if I asked her to wear pooh on her head. Beer girl from October Fest? More disturbing visions.
English: Have her bring fish and chips and call it a day. I could jack up her teeth, but we would rather keep from the permanent alterations.
Sweden: Think the Swiss Miss girl or Heidi.

Do any of these countries have costumes that they wear other than to represent someone? I mean I could have dressed her as the Queen of England, but that isn’t really something the country picked out. Although very cute with a Channel suit and small old lady handbag. I love the Marie Antoinette idea, but where do you find a small white wig for a 4 year old. I would rather not break the bank.

I am sure there is a costume shop somewhere in this lovely city that could have helped me out, but with technology it seems I cant find a phone book to save my life. Then I would have to look at a few just for the different sections of the city. You see, tired already. I cant even save my life with Google. I thought if I put in the (country’s name) and costume, I would get something, but all Internet roads lead to porn. Really too much work for one day.

I even sent George on the mission to find a costume shop. I gave him 2 days and it seems he is busing himself with getting funding for the new store. Jeez, some people are so selfish. I guess I could have broke away from reading blogs and searched the French Quarter and Uptown for ethnic costumes. I don’t think that is wise with my driving and the stupid people that seem to get in my way. Besides, I thought I would save the fine merchants of New Orleans me pushing a stroller into their delicate stores and Sam screaming his head off the whole time.

Color me shocked when I entered the Disney store, today. (Sam and I were trying to kill time to meet George for lunch. We didn’t make it, because it seems Sam can’t man up after receiving 2 shots in the leg, earlier.) There it was surrounded in bright light and Hallelujah music. An ethnic costume. I didn’t know what country it was from and was confused because it was from the new Pirates of the Caribbean movie. That wasn’t going to stop me. I had to have that costume for my baby. She was going to be the talk of the Bazaar.

Then it hit me later in the day:

This is an Asian costume of some sort. 1. We have no Asian in our family. (I think the teacher was beaten down with the amount of mutts in her class, so the next note said “Any costume from any country would do.”) Not a big deal, but…2. I am going to send my blond hair, pale face little girl in an Asian costume. Something is not right. 3. This costume covers her from head to toe and we have entered hot and humid season. The little girl is going to pass out before she can open the door to the school.

Be damn these concerns. We have ourselves a costume at a price I would rather not talk about. Amber squealed with glee when she saw it lying on her bed. She is ready to pose and be the talk of the town.

I am going to go with what the woman at the store told me, because I am sure she is an expert, it is Asian royalty. Because if you are going to steal someone’s culture you might as well do it right and go for the top.

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Oh the Shopping We Will Do.

It is coming down to the wire. The events are piling up and I think it is frowned upon to show up in yoga pants and a t-shirt unless you are at da Walmart. I think the world would be a much better place if there were no clothing rules. Maybe when I rule the world.

I bit the bullet and went down to the local mall, a.k.a. hell on earth. For added fun I dragged a sick baby boy with me. He was not happy with the situation, but after plying him with an enormous amount of Cheerios and wheat crackers he was much happier. I am sure he will be on a therapist’s couch complaining about his mom dragging him from store to store trying on every piece of clothing in the stores. Not to mention seeing his mom in her underwear about a million times in one day. We charged on (and yes, I mean that both ways). My punishment is that now I am sick, again.

So I give you what I bought, yesterday. I would like my husband to keep in mind, even though he never sees a credit card bill, that he did tell me to treat myself. I can confidently say, I DID.

This is what I will be wearing to an evening wedding at a Plantation. I know you have seen the shoes before. I will say it, they are my go to dressy shoes. I understand I need more heels. That is a problem for another day. I think I tortured my poor boy enough. Consider this: I was in such a shopping mode that I forgot to eat lunch, check a diaper or even give him something to drink. If he wouldn’t have cried, I probably would have forgotten to feed him, too. Shhhhhhh, don’t tell CPS.

Everything is from Ann Taylor, except the shoes.

Here is the necklace, I picked (with some help from the sales ladies at Ann Taylor)to dress it up a bit. It should be noted that I am not a big fan of jewelry, even very expensive jewelry. I think most of it is pretty, but I don’t like wearing it. Although, I feel fairly comfortable in this necklace. Also, this necklace gives me an excuse not to wear earrings. Here is the outfit that I will be wearing to a fundraiser for a local politician. It is casual dressy.

Everything from The Limited including the jewelry, again except the shoes.

If you can’t tell, the wrap shirt is brown and there is a cream cami underneath.

The shoes:

Once again, these are shoes I have had in my closet for quite awhile. I love them.

Haven’t decided which necklace:


A little lagniappe:
You cant beat a buy 2 get one free sale. I, also, bought 3 t-shirts at the Limited, too. I recommend these shirts, because they are a little more than a regular t-shirt. They are gathered above the breasts and slightly a-line. I really like the way they compliment my shape. The material is thin, but not see through and very comfy (oh no, there is that word again).

Not to be left out, I stumbled upon these outfits for the kids. I thought I had them all set, but couldn’t pass up this dress for Amber. While, I was there I thought Sam deserved something better than a Target outfit.

For the princess:

I still need to get her shoes.

Now for the boy:

That is the extent of Sam’s shoe choices. I did order these. I don’t know when they will be in, so I need a plan B.

The kids’ outfits were from the Disney store. Yes, I know, but I thought they were too cute (especially that dress)to pass by. If you are really opposed to the kids wearing a dress with Belle on it (on the button in the middle of the bow and then mixed in with the floral print of the dress) or a sweater vest with a small, green silhouette of Pluto and one of a navy blue Mickey on it, talk me out of it. I dare you.

Sorry, the pictures weren’t better. My battery was running low and I feel lightheaded from the sickness. Feel free to criticize, compliment, or just plain say, “Whad up?”

This post is for Susan at Friday Style and Jill at Stylin’ Momma. Check them out they will make you want to go shopping.

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What goes on when I am not around.

While I was quietly putting the kiddies to bed, something strange was going on outside. Men in black were sneaking around with really big guns. I knew George had a friend coming over to play, but I didnt know they were going to go this far.

“Excuse me, Miss. Do you mind if I hang out back here while I wait for my friends to come out and play? This is going to be sweeeeet!”

” Excuse me, Mrs. Southern Mom can the man in the black come out to play?”

Don’t I look really cool in my new dress up clothes. I will be the talk of the neighborhood kids. Everyone will want one. I am so gonna rule.

“Hey, come see. I have a surprise for you. No, I am serious. I wont do you anything. Tee Hee.”

” I have the coolest outfit of them all. I have the most crap attached to my body. I wish I could wear this everyday.”

He thought he got me when he blasted me with his bullets. I will show him. “No, really I have forgiven you. Come see I have something special just for you.”

These are grown men that have been entrusted with our financial future. They consider this work.

The best I can hope to come from this tomfoolery is that the Pit-Bull next door knows better than to wander into my yard and eat one of the younguns. The dog on the leash in our yard is up for grabs, though.

I would like to point out that this is the man that is giving me fashion advice. I wonder if I could sport this outfit at the wedding we are attending, soon. I am sure I wouldn’t steal any attention from the bride.

And if my husband tells me ONE. MORE. TIME. that he has knees pads, he will be snuggling next to the guy all in black. They find each other so funny, I am sure he wont mind.

If you really want to know what is going on. Hubby is on the verge of opening a law enforcement store. This is the kind of stuff they are going to sell, among other things. They plan to serve those whose job it is to protect and serve the public. Catchey, ain’t it?

This message brought to by Really Scary Looking Dudes that I never want to see coming at me.

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Fashion Police: There is STILL no hope.

The hubs read yesterday’s post and started in on me. First there were the snide remarks, “Well, your just comFY.” and then came the pity, “I think you should treat yourself. Go out and get something like those Orange County Wives.” First let’s face it, if I was going to treat myself I would find the biggest tub of Haagen Dazs Chocolate ice cream and the world’s largest pair of sweatpants and not leave the sofa for a week. Seeing that I don’t want to see myself on the NEWS being cut out of my home, I will put that on the back burner, for now. Second, does hubby have any idea the amount of money it takes to look like one of those women? He calls me frugal, which my receipt from Target would beg to differ, but I don’t think passing on the $300 shirt is necessarily frugal. It is more like not wanting to be homeless with a great looking shirt. Besides, if I dress like an Orange County Wife can I have a car like one. (Note to husband: No, we will not spend $100,000 on a car. I was being sarcastic.)

Since meeting the man, I have stepped up my standards a bit. I no longer go out in my pajamas, which appears to be the style, now. I knew I was ahead of my time. I have since retired my “Sunday Outfit” which was a navy blue men’s polo and plaid Winnie the Pooh boxer shorts. My regular stores have branched out a little and I experiment a little more. However one must be realistic.

Here is the reality in a nutshell: I have 2 small children, I am clumsy, I am lean toward the conservative side and I would look out of place if I were dressed in high heels and a $300 shirt at the playground.

It has become increasingly harder to shop with 2 small kids. I have a 4.5 yr old that starts complaining as soon as we walk into the mall. “Are we done, yet?” “Why are you taking so long?” As far as she is concerned if we are not in a toy store, then what is the point of shopping. Maybe I will be better dressed when she becomes a teenager and learns the error of her ways. Then there is the boy, who starts screaming as we pull into the mall parking lot. His eyes glazes over and he becomes Damien . He has developed a blood curling scream that makes me want to jam knitting needles in my ears. It would feel much better.

If I were to wear high heels, I would spend much of my day picking myself off the ground. Besides, a smashed face is not in this year. The standards in my parts are pretty low, say, compared to New York and Los Angeles. We don’t get many fashion shows around here and some of the larger department stores have decided to stay gone (Macy’s, Lord and Taylor’s). Some women step it up a bit with heels with jeans and nice shirts, but really once the heat hits women are wishing for a new law so that we may go topless. And yes, God forbid, we wear white socks and tennis shoes. Don’t know why this is a sin with the fashion gods. I could understand if she was in a pair of shrimping boots, but come on, doesn’t everyone wear white socks and tennis shoes at least to go to the gym. Why is it attributed to Louisiana? I know we all sit around on our first porch, singing into our banjo, whistling through our missing front teeth, but I don’t think we are the only people in the world that wear that particular combination.

Maybe I could spend a little more time on myself if I wasn’t responsible for what the whole family is wearing. I know it falls under my realm of duties, but it is a little hard to put the main focus on you when you have to dress 3 other people. So, if I don’t look like I walked out a fashion magazine then so be it. It takes a lot of time and energy to look like that and there are other things on my plate at the moment. I do have standards: I shower everyday, blow dry my hair and make sure that I have my panties firmly in place. Other than that I cant help you.

I would like it known, I don’t hate on any woman that can gussy themselves up for a trip to the playground or what have you. If I see you while I am out, I will admire your dress and then wipe the vomit off my shirt. More power to ya. I just don’t have it in me. I hope someday I will.

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