Wardrobe Fights

Madison and I butt heads over clothes. Daily. Here is what she wore today. I don't know who "won". She didn't wear nice silky skirts to play in the dirt. *Win for me* She didn't wear long sleeves or long pant variety winter clothes for the forecasted 110 def F. *Win for me* But she did successfully cover her entire leg with fancy boots so there will be no actual cooling of her body. *Win for her*

This was the third outfit she put on this morning. I can't wait for cooler weather so she can wear whatever she wants and not get heat stroke at recess. Yesterday Ben reported that she had worn the summer clothes I made her wear but came to recess in a jacket zipped shut with the hgood on. She has a good today on that t-shirt and wore it most the morning.

We Grow 'Em Small

I just pulled a pair of shorts size 18 month from Maddie's laundry. She turns eight years old at the end of the summer. I can believe they were still in there. Or that she wore them last week!

Bad Day For Pants

I believe in the old pioneer adage (most of the time). Today we took the kids to the school for a Girl Scout service project. It was called Second Chance School Supplies. The teachers clean out their rooms this week and dump all the things they aren't going to use anymore into huge boxes and we sort and give it all away to multiple organizations like Food from the Heart, Caring for Cambodia and the YMCA. It was a good day of hard work and breaks on the playground with a pizza lunch. 

Of course with all things like this though, some of the stuff gets thrown in the trash. Some things I was okay with, but mostly I want to repurpose way too much. I seriously thought about not going at all because it might make me nuts to toss things. I did okay though as I only snagged a couple things out of the trash. There was so much more screaming at me to take it home.

I hate throwing anything out and my house screams of this little problem I've got. My clothes closet in particular. Today we loaded the kids into the car and as I slid into my seat I heard it...RRRRRRIIIIIIPPPP! I think I got those pants either in high school or first year of college. I wear them a lot. When the knees wore through I could no longer wear them to work at the law firm so I patched the hole and just wore them to school. Finally the hole wore through again and they became cut off jeans. Then I figured they were nice enough looking to hem the edge and so I made them "nice" again.

So I continued to wear them...until today. I went back upstairs and changed into a pair of Capris that I've had since, well, more than 10 years. At scripture time tonight I climbed onto the bed in the pile of freshly bathed bodies of little people and looked down to see that the side seam of these pants too have a hole. Sigh. These capris have been through all 4 pregnancies through the weight coming up and going down. They were the goal weight pants. When I could squeeze into them I knew I was close even if buttoning the waist hurt my tender, c-section sensitive muffin top belly. It was my personal victory to wear these capris again. I'm not giving up on them yet but they have only one or two more wears left in them.

There's a Hole in My Underwear!!

Jacob is upset and doing the flippy-floppy on the floor insisting he can't put his underwear on. It's over his feet and already pulled up to his knees. He can't possibly remember how to pull them up from his knees to his waist. Then horror of all horrors. He discovered his underwear has a hole in it and doesn't want to wear them anymore. I could get a new pair but it wouldn't help. All boy underwear has a pee hole. Too bad kiddo. Suck it up and deal. Now pull your drawers up!

Uniform Inspection

My big job of the day is to inventory the uniforms we have floating around here. The kids, despite not wanting to go to school next week, are so excited about their uniforms that Jacob and Maddie asked permission to wear theirs all day today.
They had me write Maddie's name on all her shirts last year. That's what Jake is wearing today. I'm not sure what to do. I save $80 if I can figure a way to convert "Maddie Mae" into "Jacob" and Ben is suggesting I start looking at the shops for fabric white out.

Planning Ahead

With the laundry troubles we have been having I asked the two big kids who need specific uniforms each day to check their drawers before they went to bed tonight to check if I would need to do any laundry tonight so they are ready for school tomorrow.

They both said they had what they needed and Maddie let me know she even laid hers out so it was ready for the morning. Three hours later I pass her room on my way to bed and had to laugh.

I think the plan must be to slide down the bunkbed ladder directly into the clothes. I want to be there to see it. She's so darn cute sometimes!

Passports, Black Socks and Orange Julius

On Monday I had to report to the US Embassy to claim my passport. I count myself as incredibly lucky that it was found AND returned to the embassy. I didn’t even notice it was gone. I would have freaked out next time we tried to travel and I couldn’t find it. I put it in the drink holder of my backpack after we returned from Hong Kong. Somewhere between the visa checkpoint and the parking lot it fell out. We didn’t even check luggage, just walked straight out. Inside the passport was my Singapore Dependent pass too so that is gone. I feel like an idiot.

In any case Brian came home from work early to take the kids to swim lessons since the pickup window is only open from 3:00 – 3:30 pm. I got my passport and then hit Toys R Us for diapers for Jacob and searched for black socks for Ben. Apparently there is a law here in Singapore that I didn’t know about. Thou shalt not wear black socks. Or maybe it’s a commandment. I had previously looked at three different stores for black socks he could wear to church with no luck. Right outside the Toys R Us is an entire level of specifically children’s clothes. I went into eight different shops (I counted). I looked myself and then asked each and every clerk for black socks. Nope. Only 3 of the stores even had navy blue socks. In the end, I paid $30 for three pairs of navy blue socks which I hope will pass for black. Rip off. Note to self. Only buy navy blue dress pants from now on.

The weather being as it is here, I was parched and as I went down six levels of escalators to get back to the basement any and everything cold seemed to be calling my name. Finally on the last level I caved when I saw a Dairy Queen/Orange Julius stand. The classic Orange Julius sounded cold and fantastic. I placed my order at the counter with the twenty something employee. He looked a bit surprised and repeated my order. Yep. Orange Julius, but now I was doubting myself and asked if they had that. He said that they had real, fresh juice if I would prefer that. It’s made of real fruit. Still confused I asked if they had the original orange Julius drink. Yes they do, but it is made of milk powder and sugar syrup. The juice is real fruit. Ummmm…. Okay. Kid, you have no idea the history I have with powdered milk. If you only knew. Let’s just say I don’t really have a problem with powdered milk. I was raised on it almost from birth and only just recently stopped drinking it because I can’t import that quantity of food into your lovely country. Yes. Gimme my drink kid. I’d like one sugary syrup, artificially flavored orange drink with milk powder. More power to you if you wanna be organic. It’s just not my cup of tea.

It was really good!

Double Take

If you passed Maddie Mae on the street this morning I guarantee you would have done a double take. She put this little ensemble together all by herself.

Two different shoes. Socks pulled up as high as she could manage to get them. Dance leotard with a winter coat and umbrella. Classy to say the least.

I Think That Used to Be My Bicep

I went shopping with a fun (and classy I might add) girlfriend the other night. Cori is the best bargain shopper and can assemble a killer outfit with the simplest stuff. She has an eye for deals and never (almost) shops anywhere but the thrift store, buy you would NEVER know it to look at her. So we had some fun on Thursday night at Unique Thrift and I came away with three (or twenty) new outfits depending on how you mix and match them. Totally happy with that, and the most expensive thing was $3.75! I'd post pics of my cute duds, but I'm the picture taker in the family, so just imagine for me. Now the depressing part. I'm at my lowest weight since high school. I call it my happy weight. Then why do I not fit in a smaller pant size? I know. Because I've been pregnant three times and stretched and cut and all that jazz. But if I'm the same weight, why can't I wear the same size?? Ugh. I'm a science gal. I know the principles of physics. I believe in conservation of mass. If I weight the same, then while it's all there somewhere, there shouldn't be any extra. So what then, I ask, is the difference? I think what was my massive bicep and calf muscles can now be found located around my waist and backside. Maddie supports that theory. Wednesday night she was in trouble and totally wild, crazy in a tantrum. She was sent to her room and lost desert priviledges for the night. When she cooled off, I went up to snuggle with her and talk as we rocked in the rocking chair. (You know, after you correct them, show an extra measure of love or whatever that scripture is.) I was slouched a bit and she was all curled up on my lap, head nuzzled into my shoulder looking down at her lap. Right in the middle of our loving gentle talk, she sits straight up, points to my spare tire stomach and says with smile and genuine excitement, "Mommy, you're next baby is getting ready to come!" Maybe I should have explained my conservation of mass theory to her and told her it was just my bicep that had relocated itself. I settled with telling her, "A baby wasn't coming today." Seemed to satisfy her for now.

What Do You Mean It Isn't For Me?

This week I have been dutifully going about the arduous task of rotating the kids clothes. The bigger sized come out of boxes that are hauled up from the basement and placed into their drawers. The things they have outgrown have now made a pile so large that the pile has outgrown the closet where I throw them. I sorted into three piles, one for each child. Then folded and sorted by size printed on the tags. Finally bag them and label the bags before hauling them back down three stories to the basement. Oh the exciting joys of my life are so underwhelming some days, aren't they?

In the mess that we called the living room during the process, Maddie found the newborn Santa suit the Bairds gave us when Jacob was born. She was elated and ecstatic to wear the dress up she had just discovered. I told her it was Jacob size wouldn't fit her. She was not deterred. She sat down to get it on. She got one foot, then the other and proclaimed, "See!?!?! If fits me!!!" Then she stood and found the first arm and pulled and pulled and pulled. She couldn't get it up over her shoulder. Oh well, she decided. She'd just get the other arm in. No luck. Couldn't even get her hand in the hole. Finally, she gave up trying to get it all the way on and decided what she had was good enough. She waddled over and asked for the hat. I obliged and she set off to play. That lasted all of two minutes as she discovered she could barely move her feet and couldn't use her right hand at all. Cracked me up.

As far as clothes go, I'm becoming lots less conservative about saving everything. When Maddie was born I still had every stitch of clothing Ben ever wore. Even the stuff I hated. I have this paranoid idea in my head that if Brian ever lost his job, I'd need a million old stained onesies because I wouldn't have money to by new ones.

My kids have more clothes than they need most of the time. Having an abundance is nice in that I am only pushed to finish the laundry every two weeks. Mind you I said FINISH. I do wash every week. We just have to rumage through the clean basket to find what we need. I'm sure no one else in the world has that problem, right?