this woman’s work

You are browsing the archives from 2007 December.

This is a picture from her swimming lessons at her ill-fated preschool. In the first picture, the little boy to the left of her was the biggest kid in the class and as you can see, Madison is bigger. (The boy’s dad was like 7 feet tall.)

In the second picture (from their pumpkin picking field trip) you can see her sitting next to one of the oldest kids in the class. The little girl to her right was pretty much the same size as almost every other little girl at preschool and she’s also six months older than Madison. It gives you a better idea of how much bigger and taller she is than other kids her age. (As always, click to make the pictures bigger!)

This can also give you an idea of why people have a hard time remembering that Madison is only three. Coupled with terrifically clear speech (she was easily the best talker in the class and interpreted for the other kids some), it’s easy to assume she’s older than she is. (Lately people ask her if she’s five.)

In any case, you can see how those skinny flares just aren’t going to work on her. (These aren’t the cutest of her preschool pics but they’re the only ones without other people’s children’s faces in them so they’ll have to do!) Edited to add: I’ve probably told you all this but Jessica played middleschool football on the boys’ team. Clearly my girly can kick your girly’s ass. After all, she can pretty much take down her seven years older brother!!!

Madison is a very round, very active little girl. She’s tall (95th percentile) but is rounder than she is tall (off the charts). Styles these days — way tight, boot cut, low-rise — don’t work on her body and I’m having a heckuva time finding her 100% cotton pants that fit. And she’s all about dresses but those babydoll dresses? The ones that Gap was making in droves a few years back? The ones that Lands End made? The ones that fit like the Hanna playdress? They’re not making those so much anymore. (She’s got some used though and a couple from the Hanna outlet.)

You all know I’m a cheapskate so I do most of the kids’ clothes shopping at the thrift stores and then make up the difference as needed. I’m not seeing much in the thrift stores or in the new stores unless I want to pay Hanna prices (and frankly, I do want to — that’s how much I love Hannas — but I can’t afford it) I’m kinda stumped. When Brett hit the Hanna outlet he also grabbed some pants but he got size 110 and in pants she’s still a 100 and he wasn’t able to find the kind with the elastic cuff that work even when they’re too long. Such is the genius of Hanna cuffs! And right now she’s wearing some hand-me-down sweatpants that are, I believe, from The Gap. Maybe. I don’t know but they’ve got those cuffs so instead of looking too long, they just look comfortably baggy.

So here’s what I want to know from those of you who actually shop in stores and buy things new — where does one get sturdy, 100% cotton, regular old pants for a 3-year old the size of a 5-year old but who hasn’t stretched out the way the size 5 clothes tend to assume? We have looked at Target, The Gap, Old Navy, Lands End, LLBean and even Talbots. I’m thinking maybe Carters? I just can’t get away from those flared pants for children with tiny little tushies!
We’re covered for shirts (although again the short, tight look? We buy everything a size up to avoid it) and we did manage to get a the playdresses but pants — we need more.

Well, not quite. But I’m waiting to hear back from a boss-type person with some details I need for rewrites for work so I’m stopping by here while I wait. That’s called multitasking. See? Not a moment wasted!

I’m getting more edits back from my sample chapter and yes, the readers are saying very similar things. At least generally. I take it as a good sign that they’re all pretty much seeing the same weaknesses and that means I can work on those areas instead of burning the whole manuscript and renouncing my writerly intentions. (Not that I would but you know what I mean.)

I’m getting a little further on the chapter outline but am hampered by fear/insecurity about my ability to write a WHOLE ENTIRE BOOK of meaningful prose. Fortunately I’m an old hand at dealing with fear/insecurity so I muddle on through anyway. Because as sad as I’ll be if my plans crash and burn, I’ll be way more sad if I never even give it a shot. Plus seems like my failures tend to point me towards more successes, you know? I’m like one of those wind-up toys that bounce into walls. I go, “Yowch, guess I better turn around and try heading this other way for awhile.”

Now I have to get back to work. Stop distracting me with all of your blogging! Sheesh! You know I have no willpower!

More like I’m afraid of making money. I should be psychoanalyzed. Wait — why pay someone else to analyze me when I can do it right here on the blog???

I’ve always been a little money-phobic, a little prone to hoarding. I can remember in particular going to the toy store with a gaggle of kids (cousins? I have no idea) so we could each spend our savings and I spent hours — HOURS — until the children threatened to string me up (and my mother offered to help) even though I had more money than any of the other kids and was only planning on buying something small. I finally bought a gigglestick because it was cheap and I hoped it would be amusing. Then I went home and cried. And cried. And then just when my mother thought I could cry no more, I found the strength to cry for another couple of hours.

I felt terrified that there would be never be any money ever again and that my $24 would be all the money I would could ever expect to have and here I’d spent $1.99 of it in an absolutely (I felt) devil may care attitude of irresponsibility.

I haven’t changed all that much as an adult, which is why Brett handles the money. (I think my fear of money was ground in when my parents divorced and we began to economize pretty severely, convincing me that money does randomly disappear so one should never, ever, ever assume there’s more where that came from.)
I can (and have) spent way too much time trying to decide if it’s worth it to drive to the discount grocery store because cereal is on sale or stay at the one nearby where it’s more expensive but they have day-old bread and then when you factor in gas — oh forget it, the kids can eat oatmeal at $.21 a serving. (And then what I’d do is go into the kitchen and make homemade instant oatmeal to make things easier on Brett heading to work in the morning.)

Frugality is grand and all — I will never be a spendthrift — but the anxiety that drives it for me is not so healthy.

I’m trying to change my mindset because when I’m not so anxious and fearful about money it’s a lot easier to make it. When I’m not getting out the calculator to prove to Brett that buying apples in the bag (bruised as they may be) is far cheaper than buying them loose I have more time and energy to, I don’t know, work.

This has meant a lot of painful letting go. Brett is doing the grocery shopping now and it’s been both terrifying and freeing to watch him buy what I find to be the epitome of wanton luxury — canned beans. (I’d make a big batch in the crockpot and then freeze them in convenient servings. And pre-made pizza crust! He buys them, the hedonist!) And this furniture we bought — $395 for a couch, a chair, a kitchen table and six chairs is minuscule but still! I sit and admire them and try to dampen down my terror.

But it surprises me still how scared I am of making enough (nay, more than enough — she types with brave optimism) and counting on that. Oprah would have a field day with me. And in fact, my Law of Attraction minded mother-in-law throws up her arms in despair about it.

I’m trying really hard to shuck this off because I know it gets in the way. I know that sometimes I don’t take a step forward because I’m afraid of making money because (and this is the nutty part) I’m afraid that if I have enough money that bad things will happen. And even though this hasn’t proven to be true during my brief stint of having money (like when I was at ePregnancy), I lived in guilt and fear as my savings climbed. And when ePregnancy ended? I hate to say it but I felt almost relieved because penny-pinching felt so much more familiar.

I really need to get over it because I’m planning on being quite financially comfortable, darn it.

It’s a bit more orange than he expected but he likes it any old way. Being his mother, I miss the sheer perfection of his own fabulous natural self but this is fun, too.

(click to make bigger)