My coworker has this purse that makes me all nostalgic. It’s acid-wash denim, with a small embroidered rose in the bottom right corner. I so had one exactly like it when I was a kid — somewhere around 8 – 10. I recall being pretty accessory-obsessed. I had a doorknob full of purses on my closet (this denim one, a fluorescent chartreuse one, a white patent leather one, a gray one that was my mother’s and probably a few more), and inside there was (maybe it’s still there) this rack meant for ties, but it had my mom’s old belts (I find myself wishing for the thin silver one sometimes). I also had at least one drawer full of beaded necklaces.
I’ve been looking all over the internet for a picture of this particular purse, but I can’t find it anywhere. (Though it seems like a lot of people are re-purposing jeans and making them into handbags.)
I still have a fondness for purses and shoes and jewelry.
And apparently, so does my daughter. She was sporting these yesterday on our weekly trip to the farmers market.
It’s getting to be that time of year again; football jerseys are out.
Bridget has gotten into her “story tapes”. Brendan had some cassette/books from when he was a kid, but only a few with both the storybook and tape that match up. The other day on eBay, he came across an auction of some tapes and books some of which we had the book and not the tape and vice versa, plus some new ones that we didn’t have yet — like Mary Poppins.
They came today. And in a really awesome yellow suitcase case to boot. Now she’s got the matching tape for It’s a Small World and Alice in Wonderland. In addition to the aforementioned Mary Poppins, the other new set was Brer Rabbit and the Tar Baby.
According to the Wikipedia article:
“The phrase is considered by most Americans to be an ethnic slur. However, since most Americans have never heard the phrase and have no knowledge of its origins, it is ludicrous to make this assertion.”
I guess if Wikipedia says it’s not racist, it must be true? It just doesn’t quite sit well with me for whatever reason. I feel like we should give it a listen to hear how bad it sounds. And then get rid of it. Maybe sell it and then donate the money.
And… I listened to it. The story itself is not so bad: Rabbit escapes from Fox and Bear. But the tape, oh the tape. Since the story is from Song of the South, the tape sounds pretty much like the SNL skit.
This past weekend, my college roommate Chris and her daughter Evelyn came for a visit. The girls are only 5 months apart and they had a lot of fun together. It was Bridget’s first sleepover, and they stayed up late late late on Friday night giggling and being silly in her room. There were a lot of reasons why they couldn’t sleep. And endless stream of reasons. Eventually though, they did go to sleep. (Not that anyone really cared they were awake. Who hasn’t stayed up late at a sleepover?)
There was a lot of running around the house, making messes and general four-year-old (Bridget is almost 4, I think of her as 4 at this point anyway) shenanigans.
Saturday afternoon the girls all went to see The Nields do a kids show at Jammin Java. I haven’t seen The Nields since college. It was a lot of fun. (Though since they are originally from the area, there was an abundance of friends and family, and it sort of felt like we were the only ones there who didn’t actually really know them.) Bridget spent a lot of the time standing front and center at the base of the stage (she really wanted to get on it) and just staring at Katryna. She’s that perfect age where she will just dance and spin and not really care (or know) that anyone is watching her.
Once Chris and Evelyn left on Sunday, Bridget declared herself officially bored. And then took an EPIC nap.
Since today was sort of stinky, we will revisit yesterday — a spectacular day.
There was “chalking”…
And all around loveliness…
Yesterday was one of those days. A Terrible Awful No Good Day. Or at least, it ended badly. Bridget did not nap. Not a single wink. Boy did she need a nap, too. By three she was bouncing off the walls and driving us all crazy. Poor Johnny is working on a tooth and so he’s been cranky and not wanting to sleep a whole lot and generally needy. The snow was falling and blowing and we were all inside. Together. For the fifth day.
There was a brief point where the snow ended and the sun came out briefly and so I went out and shoveled the drive. I’m sure this is why my mother always shoveled when I was growing up: to get away from us. Plus, it’s quiet outside just after the snow stops. I thought, maybe that break would be enough. But alas, it was not.
By 4:30 and after a whole lot of whining we had all (and by we I moslty mean myself) had just about enough. So I got Bridget in her PJs and fixed her some eggs and toast and had her ready for bed by 6. Man did she need to sleep. Of course, she fought it the whole way. Johnny went down at about 6:30 and she just started yelling for her Dad. She’d already tried Mom and I told her that I’d have to take “her guys” (whatever stuffed animal she’s picked for the night) away if I came back in. Switching it up was her way of trying to get around that.
But I went in instead and she was not happy. I had her hand over her guys and she just started bawling. Asking for dessert. Wanting her Dad. So I asked her, “Why do you want Dad?”
“Because I love him. You’re mean to me. You only love Johnny.”
That killed me. So I explained to her that I am not mean because I like it, that there are rules and she has to follow them. It’s bedtime. After some hugs and assurances that yes, I do love her, Johnny just needs extra attention right now, I back-tracked a little and let her have just one guy (instead of the usual two) and promised her I’d tuck in the other one after she went to sleep.
And of course, by now it was around 7. Her normal bedtime.
Beer and some emails to friends and family made me feel a little better.
We are on-track for a better day today. And that’s all I can really ask for.
Johnny: Hey, won’t someone please save me from my big sister?
Doesn’t he just look terrified? I was trying (again) to get a good photo of them together for the month. Maybe next time.
One night when I was about fourteen my brother who was around twelve got sick in an epic fashion. Vomit was everywhere. All over the wall of his bedroom and even inside the light switch. Yes my parents had to replace it. The thing I remember the most was that it was spaghetti and the noodles stuck to the wall.
We had our own night like that Thursday night. Bridget got sick in a spectacular way and it was also pasta (tri-color rotini, to be specific) . She did though manage to get herself to the bathroom. And afterward I felt so bad. I was in our room getting the baby settled when I heard her walk out of her room, as she always does, and so I told her to get back to bed and I was getting a little upset with her for not listening to me. Then it became clear why she didn’t. After it was all said and done she wanted to apologize. Poor thing. The event is still fresh in her mind. She’s talked about how “then I spit out noodles” to a few people.
She is definitely better now. No more getting sick, but she has taken herself up for nap since Friday. So far no one else has had any symptoms, but I wouldn’t put it past the universe to sock it to me tonight.
On Saturday we decided to play tourist and go into the city and visit the Natural History museum. Bridget requested a “dinosaur museum” and we hadn’t been in a while.
When we travel, I go to great lengths to not stick out as a tourist. If I need a phrase book, I keep it in my purse and study it at night, in a bathroom stall or try and hide it under the table. If we need a map, I try and be discreet (I really like the Moon Metro series, btw). I just want to blend in. I spend a lot of time in the summer annoyed by tourists on the Metro and I don’t want to be the same thing to another person.
However, this weekend I decided that this was totally silly and whipped out the camera on the mall to snap some photos of Brendan and Bridget with the Capitol in the background. After all, we were surrounded by tourists and no one knows that we live just across the river. Plus if anyone asked, we could always pretend to be from Baltimore, Pittsburgh or Ohio. No problem. A nice lady even asked if we wanted our picture together. Sweet.
The museum was a total hit. Once we got to looking at stuff, that is. By the time we got bags packed with diapers and lunches and the camera and the kids into the car and to the Metro station and finally to the museum we all had to hit the restroom and John was hungry. Note to nursing moms, there’s a quiet spot next to the IMAX theater entrance with a single bathroom (and changing table and chair!) and benches outside. While I nursed, Bridget let loose to the totally awesome muzak that was playing:
And then, the rest of us decided we should get some lunch. So it was down to the cafeteria to eat the food we brought with us.
Now, finally, we were ready to see the museum. Bridget declared it “the best museum I ever saw.”
If I had gotten this photo a little bit earlier, I could have sent it out with our Christmas cards:
It was what I was going for earlier. It’s still not perfect, but with a little adjustment here and there… I’m just proud to have one of the both of them looking at the camera.