If you’re interested in library programs, now’s the time to check into them, since some libraries require that you register the kids for a whole series. This is also a good time to check into classes in general. Music studios, gyms, and schools of all kinds will often let you attend a sample class or they’ll invite you to an open house at this time of year. If you’ve got really little kids and you’re looking to kill some time, keep in mind that you don’t have to be seriously considering enrolling in order to take advantage of some free entertainment. If you’re a new reader and you don’t know where to begin, check out the Big Ol’ List of Links, or parents of teensy babies can do a search on “Teensy Baby”.
Here’s that famous “Most Wonderful Time of the Year” commercial. I couldn’t figure out how to embed the video. I still can’t figure it out. It seems like I am doing exactly what all of the documentation tells me to do. Whatever: I give up.
The girls and I spent the entire morning sorting through our cool-weather clothes. We have vast boxes of hand-me-downs for the girls to pillage, although I do try to complete a private viewing before I allow them access. That’s because, I swear, if there is one hand-me-down that I don’t like, I can guarantee that it will become one of my daughter’s most prized and oft-worn item of the year. I’ve learned this through bitter experience. Now every piece of clothing goes through a quick review, which is: will it drive me crazy if someone’s wearing this four or five times a week? This doesn’t weed out too much: I have a pretty high tolerance for poor fashion choices (as the women who work at my husband’s office will tell you–wait!! oh, crap! did I say that?).
Anyway, sorting is always a scene of drama and pageantry. The most suspenseful moments in the Clothes Sorting Process are when both girls covet an item that M’s been wearing, and we’re not sure if it still fits. Then M’s straining to pull some too small item onto her increasingly gangly big-girl limbs while J clutches herself and holds her breath in anticipation. And J starts smiling more and M is grimly struggling and then. . . well, it depends. Sometimes I realize that the adjustable waist band can be adjusted and M is granted a reprieve. More often, J is triumphant, and I have to remind her not to gloat. For particularly well-loved clothes, I even place a moratorium on wearing an item until a proper mourning period has been observed.
As for the pageantry, there’s often a couple of gorgeously fabulous skirts or dresses which must be modeled, flaunted, and danced in. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to predict which items will actually appear in their daily life. The girls are famous for professing great love for an article of clothing that is then placed in the drawer, never to see the light of day again, except perhaps when I pull it out and ask plaintively: “What about this cute skirt? Didn’t you say that you liked it? You know, you could wear this to school any day that’s not a gym day, right?”
Anyway, after all of that clothing sorting, the girls changed into swimsuits for the pool. J camp tripping down the stairs wearing her suit and, over it, a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of thick velour pants. She couldn’t help herself: they were simply too fabulous.