Mother=Costume Designer?!

One aspect of having kids (especially having a lot of kids) that I never anticipated was how many 'ensembles' I would be responsible for.  I don't mean everyday clothes, though I am responsible for that too.  I am talking about those special occasions where everyone needs to look a certain way all at once--a cousin's wedding, a family portrait, a great grandparent's funeral etc.

I never paid too much attention to fashion, never really developed a personal style.  My sister, on the other hand actually is a costume designer.  She has designed for plays, movies, and even circus acts.  As a teenager she frequently had every single fashion magazine available that month in her bedroom.  So maybe I was doing that polar opposite sibling thing where I completely avoided a skill she was good at.

 Maybe not (we did both design our own prom dresses, which our mother graciously sewed) but the point is, now I have to think about these things.

Coordinating amateur family photos is a whole other topic.  Three out of four were on board.  Don't forget about shoes!  (It was still boot weather outside, in my defense, but not for long).

Now I have more respect for needing to coordinate six outfits for variable weather on short notice (at times mine has had to be maternity, or nursing friendly), or finding three blue dresses without distracting patterns (there is hardly any garment harder to find for an eight year old girl--the only options were school uniform, or flower girl).

While I have always made a point of making sure I have one good dress outfit for Spring/Summer (usually acquired around Easter) and one for Fall/Winter (the timing for this is pre-Thanksgiving), there are still gaps.  Shoes and socks need close attention year round.  Spring and Fall call for good sweaters or light jackets.  Hair must be considered for the girls.

                           

One of my favorite nursing tops, at a wedding with six-month-old Ariadne

Is this all hoity-toity nonsense?  I used to think so.  But the stress of having to pull this all together at the last minute is a real thing.  It is not worth the struggle of trying to 'make something work' the night before a big event.  While I might be able to do that for myself, I simply can't expect that to work for four kids.  And no one likes to feel self-conscious about their clothing, or feel like it doesn't fit.  

This coming weekend we have a wedding coming up.  But for once, I am only in charge of my own clothes.  All the kids are in the wedding!  Here's a sneak peak.

Thoughts on May Day, 2015

This is the first photo I found when I googled my old elementary school.  It illustrates the school's goals perfectly (and is a pretty good stand in for my class photos, which are probably in a box in my parents' basement). 

The Day after May Day, 2015

Yesterday morning, I sat in a parking lot listening to every word of Baltimore's chief prosecutor Marilyn Mosby's  press conference while I should have been grocery shopping.
     

At dinner we had a heated conversation about Freddie Gray, with one mad teenage boy and some kids very confused about the legal system and murder charges.  

At night, the older two kids and I saw my cousins in Hairspray, a plot I knew nothing about as the curtain came up.  Turns out, it is largely about race relations and desegregation in the Baltimore of 1962.   Just before intermission the 'TV Anchor' character listed riots and unrest in Baltimore with thirty teenagers frozen in mock-brawl on stage.  He ended with April 2015.  Who would have thought we'd be here now?  

A year or two ago, our church started a focus on racial justice and white privilege.  I was not having it.  I had covered that topic, thoroughly and completely.  One of the top goals of my elementary school education was to ensure that we were not racist.  And I feel that they succeeded.  Growling up I had friends who were Native American, Filipino, Japanese, African and Chinese.  We learned about the civil rights movement, making posters of Gandhi, King and Rosa Parks.  They did the brown eyes blue eyes experiment on us.  I was not going to listen to sermons about how I was racist without even knowing it.  Yes, I knew there were income disparities.  Yes, I knew the unemployment rates were unequal, that education score weren't the same, but there was progress.   We were on the right track.  I thought.  But it turns out I live in my own little bubble.  We all live in our own little bubbles--whether those are bubbles of racial equality or disparity, liberal, libertarian, or conservative beliefs.  We've all been surrounding ourselves with people who think like us.  (And often look like us too).  

The police brutality, and flat out killing, of African American men in the last year or so had been a real wake-up call.  Something's really wrong.  Whether or not I've counteracted prejudice in myself, whether or not I see racism in my life, there is a real problem out there that needs to be addressed.  

White privilege has really been brought into sharp focus by these events.  I remember President Obama talking about how Trayvon Martin looked just like his son would have looked, if he had had a boy.  Now that I have a 5'11'' thirteen year old boy the size of a man, I feel how protected he is by being white.  He can wear a hoodie any day of the week (and often does).  He can stand around on the street corner talking with friends.  This does not alarm anybody.  Change just one thing--his skin color--and I would be terrified for his safety right now.  But because of our extremely pale skin, I can choose whether or not I think of this as my problem.  

The distance--Florida, New York, Baltimore, Ferguson MO, has also felt like an opportunity for inaction.  'That's not happening here.' I tell myself quietly.  But when the incidents are so widespread, I can not longer take much comfort in the fact that none of them have happened in my state.  They are happening all over my country.  

So what should we do?  I really don't know.  I could go to my overwhelmingly white church to see what their thoughts are on the matter.  I probably will.  Tomorrow is Sunday, after all.

A Day in the Life: Spring 2015

Here is a little window on what we are up to these days.  It may sound a little disjointed.  It is.  But we do get a lot done.  Activities are lumped together by time of day, not subject.


At breakfast, Solomon and Nova had a long conversation about a post singularity universe and AI. (Sparked, no doubt, by a conversation Solomon and his dad had the night before about a post singularity story idea Solomon had.)

This morning Solomon and I went over the third chapter of Essays and Term Papers by Michelle McLean.  He also read the fourth chapter, as well as some of a book on Watergate.  I corrected Nova's math and she corrected her mistakes.  She is working on geometry and calculating the area of triangles.  Every once in awhile two digit multiplication is tripping her up, but she understands the concept well.  Charlotte and I read two pages of Max and the Fat Cats, the last Bob Book in set four.  The newest phonogram is -igh.  Nova practiced violin.  Charlotte practiced cello.



Charlotte and Ariadne played with play dough.  Charlotte did a little handwriting practice.  Ariadne has been asking what color things are all day "Is Twilight purple?" "Is that bacteria pink?"  "We have a green house.  On the outside."  So far, she's been right every time.

At lunch we listened to a little Billy Joel and I had the kids try and figure out what Allentown was about.  Solomon figured it out.  We also listened to Goodnight Saigon. The kids knew it was about war, but couldn't pin it down to the Vietnam conflict.

In the afternoon we watched a The Seven Wonders of the Microbe World then made up agar for twelve petri dishes and made a list of things the kids want to swab.  Solomon did a little conversion math, since the instructions were for one petri dish, not a dozen.  Aria got in on the documentary, but napped through the rest of it.

Solomon practiced violin.

Nova made up 80 fliers for her kid's newspaper project she is trying to launch in the neighborhood.

I read Animalia by Graeme Base and Miffy Rides a Bike  by Dick Bruna to the little girls at bedtime. Solomon may have done some Learn Python the Hard Way (programing).  I will have to ask.  Nova worked on a blender (computer graphics) project.