We're All Mad Here » Emo Preschool

When Negotiations Backfire: A Look at Kids and Fashion

shell — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 19:54:56 +0000

iz’s 2nd birthday fash.

Today the kids are excited: they were invited to a party with other little girls. Not just any other little girls, but fellow Barbie aficionados. A dear friend of Miss Vero’s invited us. “The girls will love it,” she says “our block is a sea of pink Barbie Jeeps as far as the eye can see.”

This, of course, brings us to the battle du jour.
Solaris and fashion are like oil and vinegar. She tries, it’s just hard for her in a town where all the other little kids are fine in their Garanimal shorts and tees. We do a lot of research online and quality time with Vogue to try to steer her in the right direction. For instance, today it’s a balmy 80 degrees or so. IsaLuna dons her super cute floral tunic from Carters in a super cute blogosphere/etsy inspired print (sans panties, as usual with her, but that is another battle).

iz’s tunic pattern.

Sol pops out in a long sweater dress ready to go. I shake my head.

ME: You can’t wear that today, sweetie, it’s too hot out.

Sol: I’m cold.

ME: (Changing direction) It’s not really in season. Here, look online at what the other little girls are wearing.

I pull up the Gymboree site, followed by Saks. I quickly learn that trying to negotiate fashion decisions with Sol using the Saks site is a mistake. Skipping past all the more affordable outfits like Chloe, Isabel Garreton and Burberry (and I use “affordable” losely), she goes right for the D&G. Even Dior is 1/3 the price of Dolce&Gabbana.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not one to spend more than $30 on a kid’s outfit given how they have a tendency to completely DESTROY anything they get near. (Artist kids– if it can be painted, it will be painted). And isn’t the purpose of buying higher quality clothing so it last longer, or is this just my utilitarian view of the matter? So if they are only in a size for a month or two, what is the point?

The Principles of Fashion Education in Emo Preschool
The original purpose of the exercise was to instill an appreciation for fashion, not that I want her to go out and drop $300 on a kid’s outfit, but so that she can learn an appreciation for style and quality so when she is out at a really great vintage shop and happens across an awesome vintage Balenciaga she won’t think twice about snatch it up for her dear mother. Ok, so really it’s so that she is able to recognize classic lines, textures and colors and apply them to more sensible items.

Fashion is an art, and like any other art is an equal mix of investment and sensuality. To not teach them to appreciate art is a tragedy. Materialism is an entirely different monster from art appreciation. She can go and experience a Van Gogh the same way she can experience a Versace, but it doesn’t mean she needs to own it. In fact, sometimes I wonder if the better investment would be to never own a Van Gogh, but instead take the lessons his pieces teach her about art and learn to recognize the potential in up and coming artists.

At least until she marries her pianist prodigy husband, Ethan and can buy herself as many Van Goghs and D&G sun dresses as her little heart desires. Until then the sweaters stay in the closet when the thermometer breaks 75, kid.

Adventures in Florida Immunization Religious Exemptions

shell — Wed, 01 Oct 2008 18:09:35 +0000

Polio outbreak campaign, originally uploaded by coda.

So today was David’s appointment at the Health Department to file for the girl’s Religious Exemptions for their Immunizations. Before you FREAK OUT and tell me what a terrible mom I am for not protecting my children, allow me to enlighten you with our beliefs.

1. We are immunizing our kiddos, just not on schedule. We waited until they were older for MMR and the like

2. They aren’t getting the Varicella vaccine. Let them itch and eat cake.

3. And if HPV becomes manditory, they aren’t getting that either. Too many girls have lost their lives to that vaccine, not going to happen.

So off we went to the Health Department. Hmmm. It was…interesting to say the least. Don’t get me wrong. I am very happy with the program, it’s a wonderful program and helps many people who need it.

It’s the “health” part of it more than the “department” part that got to me. I can’t stand hospitals, waiting rooms…even the dentist skeeves me out. (Don’t get me started on places like malls and amusement parks, bleh). And the more stressed I get, the more germophobic I become. So going to “health” places when you’re already healthy…not a happy camper. Even worse when the place wreaks of urine.

So I stand in the hallway waiting to get called in, my nose buried in D’s arm pit, 30 minutes. Five minutes, we go in, sign the papers, get a few trees worth of literature and a talking to make sure understand our decision.

Because, you know, “religious exemptions” are the new ughs boots for babies. Most people don’t really know what they are or how they are made, all they know is they want them!!!! (Sarcasm.)

I’m under the assumption that most people applying for a religious exemption have done more research than those parents who blindly trust what is being shoot into their kiddos arm is for the best interest of said spawn and not the company that created it. Not all are bad, but we have our standards on the “put it in ‘em” category. Small pox, not something we want to take our chances with. Chicken pox? No Immune issues here, so we’ll take our chances.

The irony of it is two fold:

1. The paper they have you sign is more permission slip for them to pull your kid out of public schools in the event of an outbreak (and point many, many fingers) thanth a legal form of the grave necessity it is made out to be. A signature, a date, that’s about it. No address, no telly, no SS#.

2. They have you come into the clinic to do it, where all the creepy crawlies you are trying to keep away from your kids jump a ride back to your house on your shoes. Why not an administration office?

David laughs at me as we pull up to the house, I jump out of the car still moving, open the front door with my wrists, bolt up the stairs and bathed myself in purrell and lysol. The kiddos stayed at the MILs “just in case”.

~ Ga Ga in the Tropics,
Freak Show Shell

P.S. I was half expecting a battle, an evil, terrible hassle with all the horror stories floating around the internet, but the Health Department here is AWESOME! And “supported” our decision but reminded us if we changed our minds we could come back. I even discussed the HPV vaccine with the Dr. who was following the decision to make it mandatory (in TX, apparently). We didn’t go into detail about what religion (but I had my “Amish” answer all ready to go) or the fact we aren’t NOT vacinating completely.

The Baby Powder Incident and Adventures in Poison Control

shell — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 18:21:59 +0000

The baby Powder Incident, originally uploaded by shellgreenier.

I was returning emails and smelled the faint odor of baby powder in the air. I called D.
S: please tell me you didn’t leave the bottle of baby powder where they could reach it.
D: ahhhh.
Door opens, two ghosts come out. I grabbed the camera. The bottle in the fifth image is empty, the particles were just in the air. Then it hits me…that can’t be good.

It’s all fun and games until Poison Control gets called. After 10 minutes of “what’s your name, you number, you waist size” I finally got my answer: watch eyes and breathing for an hour. Now that I am on “America’s Worst Parents” list…

Over and out.

Breastfeeding and “OMG, My Boobs Are Gone”

shell — Mon, 11 Aug 2008 01:17:20 +0000

I have about a week or so of blogs to catch you up on…including my trip to TN, the newest member to add to our family (cat, not baby), and the perils of air travel…or waiting. But tonight’s topic: I seem to have lost my boobs. I must have misplaced them in TN. Actually, I tried to keep up with pumping while I was gone but to no avail, and I figured maybe at least half of my new boobs would stick around. But I’m back to being Flat Stanley.

Izzy seems to be losing interest anyway. She stands up while attached and tries to flip around…much the way an alligator goes into a death role with a victim. It’s about the same.

So what it boils down to is my nursing days are over (with this one) but I am not sure if emotionally I am ready. I’m actually really, really heart broken. Izzy’s moving to the older side of infanthood and I’m losing my baby. I can feel baby fever growing again but then I look at how much work two is at this point and it quickly wains. Does anyone have any tips on how to just DEAL!?!

Did you ever get the feeling…

shell — Sat, 26 Jul 2008 01:04:54 +0000

…you were being talked about?

Yeah, we be there.

The Game

shell — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 16:45:53 +0000

The Game, originally uploaded by shellgreenier.

Gaaaame ooooon!

King me…

Dream on

Hello my Name Is

shell — Wed, 09 Jul 2008 02:35:13 +0000

Hello my Name Is, originally uploaded by shellgreenier.

A found photo of Iz at the White Rabbit Acre’s Potluck to kick off the new growing season.

Sailing

shell — Thu, 12 Jun 2008 02:20:39 +0000

252776-R1-10-12, originally uploaded by foampeanut87.

These are a few of my favorite things…

Brevard Zoo

shell — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:56:04 +0000

Brevard Zoo, originally uploaded by babygreenbury.

Journeyed up to the zoo to celebrate Laur’s birthday. Tried to surprise her but it didn’t work.

A is for Armadillo

Emo preschool

shell — Sun, 25 May 2008 00:44:17 +0000

0524081530a, originally uploaded by Dr. Meow Mix.

From our trip to b-n-N. Looking for some tools to teach Sol her Red, Yellow and Blues.