Branded

I am not a "brand" person.  Growing up brands were not even an option so they never really became important to me.  Most of my clothes are from Target or Kohl's - if there is anything that has a label on it in my closet it inevitably was a gift or a hand me down.  Andy and I drive cars without bells and whistles and don't sink very much money into furniture.

Don't get me wrong, I have some things that are fancy.  For instance, I will always pay the extra dollar or two for Q-Tip brand cotton swabs and Cottonelle is really my toilet tissue of choice.  This year, for my birthday, I got a Pandora bracelet from my mother - it's probably the most brand identifiable thing that I own.

This is not to say that I don't often covet other people's fancy things.  I have several friends who carry beautiful Coach bags - I don't, mostly because they are very expensive, but also because I am well aware of the fact that I will leave a pen uncapped or melt a chocolate bar into the lining.  I think 7 Jeans are beautifully cut, but I still buy cheap off brand jeans because I know how I often I forget to empty my pockets before doing wash.

As it stands now, anything that Addie has that is considered a labeled brand was not bought by one of us.  Admittedly she has several pairs of Crocs, none of which we paid for.  Mostly the brands that Addie wears are Circo, Cherokee, Granimals and JellyBeans.   Her sneakers are generic, her flip flops were $2 and she still isn't 100 percent sure what an American Girl Doll is.

With any luck, I can keep her label blind for years to come.  I hope that she likes things not because of the emblems sewn on them, but because they simply make her feel good.  As a parent, I am slowly starting to understand the desire to "keep up with the Joneses".  I want my daughter to fit in, to be well liked and to have friends - but I would prefer that all happens not because of what she wears or has, but because of who she is.

Where is this all coming from?

In a conversation today I was told that an acquaintance's young  daughter headed off to school decked out from head-to-toe in Abercrombie Kids.  Abercrombie Kids?  What?!  When I think Abercrombie, I think shirtless 17 year old boys, really stinky cologne, and horrible thumping music.  So I looked up the website and saw clothes that a) were expensive and b) were more or less horribly inappropriate for a grade-schooler.  Forty-nine dollars for a tank top?  Shorts that barely cover a rear end, no matter how tiny?  Um, no thanks.

It is bad enough that when Addie and shop at our high end boutiques, Target and Kohl's, she now wants to go in the girl section.  It is bad enough that she is particularly enamoured with clothes that have sparkles, lace and glitz all over them.  It is bad enough that sweatpants and athletic wear in the girl section print things across the bottoms of size xs 4/5.  But now do I have to worry about her, this young, being exposed to label envy?

Am I off base here?  Overreacting?  Maybe, maybe not, either way I am just a bit leary of what's to come.

Thinking about it makes me realize that my friend Barb really spoke the truth earlier this month when she said Addie "couldn't start parochial school soon enough" - I am pretty sure there is no fancy label sewn onto the back of a homely plaid school uniform.

Weekend

Last weekend was one of little intentional plans, but ended up being quite full of fun. Along with our foray into bowling, Addie and I headed to the fourth birthday party of her pal Max.

Max, and his 1st grade big brother Jake, live a little over a mile away and are quintessential boys. They love basketball and football and polliwogs and dogs. They both are rough and tumble, but also incredibly sweet and fun loving. Addie and Max are about a month a part in age, and met through my exercise class when they were only a year old.

They shared strollers while us mommies ran laps. They play dolls and cars together and, before Nicholas, Max was her original prince. While they are not in the same classroom this year, they will be across the hall from each other at preschool and I am sure that I will get daily updates about Max when I pick her up from school.

I snapped this picture on Addie's 2nd birthday of the two playmates:

And this over the weekend celebrating Max's 4th birthday:

My how they've grown! They continue to be wonderful friends to each other and all night Saturday Andy and I were told time and time again how fun the party was at Max's.

Sunday was a lazish day - Andy made a delicious breakfast, we lounged around and drank coffee. Soccer was watched, naps were taken, books were read. Late in the afternoon we headed off to a church festival - a hallmark of summer in Cincinnati.

Church festivals here aren't picnics with potato sack races and egg tosses. No, church festivals in Cincinnati include beer tents, gambling, carnival games and ears of corn drowning in melted butter. One of the last festivals of the season is the St. Ignatius Fest, just a few miles from our house. Before Andy's volleyball game, and a scrumptious dinner of steak, potatoes and blueberry dump cake, we headed off to our first, and probably last, festival of the season.

With a stack of ride tickets provided by Gramma Patty, Addie and her cousins were in heaven. The spun on the twirling pumpkins, climbed the wizards castle multiple times, flew helicopters and airplanes and raced horses on the carousal. A perfect end to what was unplanned, but not lazy, family weekend

Helicopter pilots

Carousal races

The boys - Ry and Liam

Flying high above Cincinnati

Bowler Babe

A little bit of coaching from Dad

For several years, while we still lived in Chicago, Andy participated in a Sunday night bowling league.  I joined him for a year or two, but it turned out I severely lacked any bowling skills (although I did excel in beer drinking and french fry eating).  I would often go to hang out with the boys and fill in if needed - Andy, however, became quite the bowler.  By the end of one league he had his own shoes, bag, ball and blood blister to prove it.

Since moving to Cincinnati I don't think his bowling bag has even been unzipped.  That all changed this weekend when we headed to Western Bowl with Genna and her clan for a little family bowling night.  We thought Addie might like doing something a little different - we were wrong. 

She didn't like it, she LOVED it.   I think the bright pink ball and the 16 ounce cherry slushie helped solidify her opinion.

Addie approached each frame with impressive four year old concentration and cheered every pin that she knocked down.  My favorite frame was when she stepped over the line, slipped down the alley on her belly and still managed to roll a spare - the girl has raw talent!  On her second game, she even managed to bowl a 92 - a score that I celebrated achieving back in our Chicago league days.

Home from Home



Blueberries picking



And back we are from our week long escape to Gramma Kathy's.   It was good to be home - we sat on the deck and ate our breakfasts.  Addie froliced in Mom's backyard, swinging in the hammock, feeding birds and squirrel hunting.

Pittsfield's Third Thursday

We ate fabulous bagel sandwiches in the park, picked over six pounds of fresh blueberries, spent quality time with Auntie Barb, and made a new friend.  Of course we hit the outlets for some tax-free clothes, and Addie made out like a bandit.  We wandered up to the farm to feed some animals, over to Conneticut to visit family, and down North Street for the Third Thursday festival.  Addie painted Gramma's nails, got a little spoiled, and woke up this morning missing her Gramma when she realized she was stuck all day with just me.

Hugs with new friend Emily

For my part I did a lot of reading and some resting and quite a bit of sitting back while Gramma took over.  I ran into some old faces on the street and missed seeing one of my oldest friends by a few hours.  I reveled in the cooler temperatures and having someone else make my coffee for me.

The goats at Whitney's Farm

Addison traveled, four airplanes and a several hours in the car, like a champ.  By the time we touched down in Indianapolis, she was so sound asleep that she didn't even know we landed.  Daddy got a few extra hugs this morning and the cat is being smothered in with toddler love. 

And for now we are home - no travel plans on the calendar...but we sure are thankful for the wonderful trip "home" we just took.

Next stop, Julliard

 Yes, I miss my good camera.
Yes, of course I teared up.

Thankful Thursday

This Thursday I am thankful for a lot of little, perhaps superficial, things.

I am thankful for Pretty as a Princess Dance Camp.  While it hasn't quite lived up to my expectations, Addie seems to love it and it has allowed me to have 14-plus hours to myself this week.  I have been able to conquer our mountain of laundry, scrub our kitchen floor to a gleam, go shopping in peace, shave my legs and go to the bathroom without an audience, vacuum the entire house, make at least one dinner, bake apple banana bread, enjoy silence.

I am thankful for 30 percent off at Kohl's.  While the coveted coupon did afford my husband a new pair of shoes and get my daughter two Christmas presents, it reminded my that while pregnant and shopping, stick to handbags and jewelery.

I am thankful for a dinner around our table, just the three of us.  We all ate and liked what I cooked (that in itself is a feat) and had a few minutes just to be together.

I am thankful for my apple green three ring binder in which I have finally organized all the recipes that I have collected from magazines and the Internet - it makes figuring out meals so much easier (thanks for inspiration, Colin and Liz!).

I am thankful for the changing table I found on uberclearance at Target - the first step in getting the baby's room ready for her arrival.

I am thankful for ten minute checkups where I get to hear the sweet sound of the littlest lady's beating heart.

I am thankful to be heading out to a fancy steak dinner tonight at Jeff Ruby's.  Special thanks to Cincinnati restaurant week for making this an affordable option this week and to Kim and Rick for watching Addie so that we can eat in peace.  Maybe I'll wear some fancy new jewelery.

I am thankful for my husband who has been working tirelessly on our basement bar.  Sure I don't know the ins and outs of building one, but I have been really amazed watching Andy toil over it.  He, and we, have spent ours planning and doing - and it's almost done.

I am thankful for a weekend with no plans - I have trip to the Berkshires right around the corner and Andy's Football draft is about to invade my house, a quiet weekend is the perfect way to prepare.

Finally, I am thankful for my four year old.  She's had a hard couple of days, er weeks.  She had definitely discovered her inner diva and is attempting to redefine drama mama.  But yet, there are moments when I see that she is still just a baby - like this morning when she genuinely was crying over spilt milk.  And although she has been trying my patience and fraying my nerves, I will always be thankful for her.

Camp take two

Today was the start of Pretty as a Princess dance camp. If you recall last year we only made it to three days of camp due to a mean case of pinkeye. This year we, translate I, am hell bent on attendance for the entire week. Three hours everyday where 1. She frolics and plays 2. She burns off energy 3. She gets to interact with tons of girls her age and 4. Most importantly, I get three hours for five days to my darn self. It's amazing how much easier a trip to Target is alone.

After camp, we attempted to go to Mrs. Teapots with Grandma Patty, GG, and Aunt Nikki. I say attempted, because yet again, we failed. This is the fourth time that Grandma Patty has tried to take Addie there for lunch - and the fourth time it didn't work out. Truth be told, it was my fault - I said that I'd check to make sure it was open, and I didn't. It appears Mrs. Teapot feels she should take Mondays off.


Lunch was not total fail - we ended up at the The BonBonerie Cafe, another scrumptious tea room. The upside to The BonBonerie is that they serve their checks with tea cookies and they are attached to one of the most delicious and decadent bakeries. So, of course, after our healthy lunches we side-tripped to the sweet shop for some goodies. By some, I mean I got two boxes of goodies - two mini key lime pies, two lemon poppy seed cookies, a vanilla cupcake, three mini cheesecake cupcakes, a sugar cookie decorated like a baby girl and a huge freaking hunk of cinnamon coffee cake. That was just the sweets for my house - GG and Nikki ordered their own.

Damn it's good to pregnant!

Addie had a small case of the crankies - which she informed me was because she was so tired from all her dancing.


I'll take cranky in exchange for three hours on my own, I guess.


Plus, when eating a lemon poppy seed cookie shaped like a daisy cranky doesn't bother me much.

The big guy

Let's just go ahead and blame this growing baby girl for my inability to blog. She's a feisty little lady whose favorite times to practice her dance moves seem to be between 10:30 p.m. and 2:00 a.m. By 5:30 a.m. I have to get up to pee - which is upsetting to a woman who has always had a bladder of steal and never has to pee. And, once awake, I rarely fall back into a good sleep. Essentially, a good night's rest is already out the window and I still have 16 glorious weeks of pregnancy to go.

That being said, I have been meaning to share this interaction for days. A little background: Addie is full, as we all know, of questions. Since finding out about our new baby she asks, constantly, how people are made.

Mommy? How do people get made?
Where do people come from mommy?
Do we make people mommy?

Learning from my friend, who shared a bit too much factual information with her five year old, I have chose the stock answer that Mommies and daddies love each other very much and decide to have a baby (see Mom, I did learn some thing at L.A.M.O. in sixth grade). Some days Addie takes this response and is good to go with it. Sometimes she demands a bit more specifics.

This week, after giving her my line, she looked at me and said:
But what about the big guy, Mom?
What big guy, babe?
You know, the big guy in heaven. What about him? Doesn't he help?
Er - I, uh...
No! Mama! Not the big guy, like Papa*, but that other big guy in heaven?

Oh. Him.
God**. Er - I, uh...



*It's nice to know that Addie thinks Papa Neyer is the man in heaven, like he's his own small time heavenly mayor. Which, let's be honest, he probably is.

** Maybe it's time we go to church more often than friends' weddings? Perhaps it's time for Sunday School?