crooked house

Fairy Costume

The Halloween costumes are out in the grocery store already and once Sylvie caught a glimpse of this one, it was unlikely we'd be able to leave the store with our good moods intact. But instead of fighting her on it, I caved immediately -- it was only 14 bucks -- as I know it will get a lot of wear before and after the one big day. The problem will be getting the thing off her, to wash it. (Cross your fingers it doesn't fall apart in the machine.)

Pudding Heads

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.)

 

Vivi Models

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.

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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.

Anguish.

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.

Solitude.

A slightly Toulouse Lautrec effect.

What I Want for Mother's Day

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?

Vivi's Hello Kitty Kitten Heels

This pair of black patent leather kitten heels belongs to Vivi's stuffed Hello Kitty doll. She likes to wear them around the house. If she'd been one of Cinderella's stepsisters, she would've MADE that glass slipper fit.

First Day of Spring...

And baby's got a new pair of shoes. Rainbow glitter with bright pink bows.

Boobie Beanie

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.

The Girl in the Flammable Skirt. No, Really.

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.

They Grow Up So Fast

Vivi and I are already having disagreements about how much lipstick she should wear.

A Matter of Style

The other day after school I sprang a haircut appointment on Luke. It is an understatement to say he wasn't happy about this interruption in his Lego time. As he sat down in the hairstylist's chair, muttering complaints, I said cheerily, in an effort to change the mood, "Is there anything different you'd like Ashley to do to your hair?"

"I want a mohawk," he said.

"Uh," I said.

Ashley looked at me and smiled. And then, hiding her mouth with her hand, she whispered, "FAUX-hawk."

He spent that evening asking every five minutes, "Is my mohawk still standing up?"

And the next morning, he expressed concern that if he wore his hoodie during recess it might mess up his hair. "Don't worry if it does," I said. "It's more important to be warm and comfortable so you can play and have fun."

"But it's more fun for me to have this mohawk than to play," he said.

However, yesterday afternoon, after we got back from seeing Santa at the mall, he slicked his hair down flat before running across the street to ask his friend to come out to play.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked.

"I don't want Emily's father to see my mohawk," he said.

"Why not?" I asked. "Are you worried he might tease you?"

"No," he said. "It's just that he won't know who I am."