Back when Luke was tiny, I came across these thudguard helmets online, designed for little kids just learning to walk. The first time Luke fell from a standing position, he absolutely smashed his head on the hardwood floor. He had yet to learn that you must protect your head by blocking yourself with your arms as you fall, or by holding your head upright as best you can. So I thought these helmets were a great idea. I never got as far as ordering one, though, because everyone I mentioned it to scoffed at the notion and told me I was an overprotective mother. (Which I was.)
Turns out, though, the idea isn't a new one. Witness the pudding cap:
According to Colonial Williamsburg, the pudding cap "protected the child's brain when it
fell and hit its head. There was a belief that if the head was hit it would be permanently soft, and
falling frequently could lead to the brain turning mushy like pudding. Toddlers were often and lovingly
referred to as "little pudding heads.'" (Which they are.)
We got this fancy dress at the Giant Baby and Children's Sale last Saturday for 4 bucks and it may very well have been the best 4 bucks we have ever spent. Vivi has worn it pretty much every day since then. This is the selection of jewelry she almost always wears with it. The pony bandaid is a deliberate choice. She asked me to take pictures of her in this outfit today. The pursed lip thing is something I'm afraid she picked up from me when I look in the mirror.
This is one of her more artistic shots. When she viewed this photo, she expressed displeasure about the slightly rolled sock so please keep that in mind when judging the styling here.
During the shoot, she inexplicably ran to get a comb, which she matter-of-factly inserted in the keyhole and proceeded to pose next to. During further discussion I gleaned it is supposed to be Alice's key.
Fiddling dramatically with the "key."
Pose with light switch.
A slightly Toulouse Lautrec effect.
Custom silhouette charms of the kids. One of my minor obsessions is collecting charms. I've seen the generic silhouette charms around but never really coveted one because, well, they are generic heads. But this artist will make actual silhouettes of your children's heads using photos you submit. Genius. I'm putting in my order right now. Are you reading this, D?
You can purchase these boobie beanie baby hats -- or the pattern to make one yourself -- on etsy. You know, so you can protect the delicate sensibilities of those who are offended by public breastfeeding. God forbid anyone should happen to glimpse a bit of breast as it nourishes an infant.
Image by colleendowd on flickr.
One of my New Year's resolution-ish thingys (I never keep New Year's resolutions but maybe I'll manage to keep them if I don't actually call them that) is to avoid as many dangerous chemicals as possible in food and household products, particularly where the kids are concerned. This morning, while sitting in the dentist's office waiting for the dental hygienist (when actually I was supposed to be sitting in the optometrist''s office waiting for the optemetrist's assistant, but that's another story) I happened upon this passage in Slow Death by Rubber Duck: The Secret Danger of Everyday Things:
The creation of the first flammability regulations to protect consumers was brought about by a series of deadly fires caused by new ingredients in fabrics in the years following World War II. During the Christmas season of 1951, "torch sweaters" became all the rage. The sweaters were made of brushed rayon and in some circumstances would explode when a spark was dropped on them. Children were also affected. In one case young Michael Blessington was burned to death when his "Gene Autry" cowboy suit caught fire. It turns out that the chaps in the suit were made of flammable rayon. The worst and perhaps most bizarre incident involved a woman who was critically burned when the netted underskirt in her ball gown exploded. The underskirt was made from nitrocellulose (the basis of gunpowder) and ignited in a rather dramatic fashion at a New Year's Eve party.
I wonder if Aimee Bender, author of The Girl in the Flammable Skirt, had heard about that woman in the exploding ball gown when she wrote her story.