Over the weekend, I borrowed Tim Gunn's style guide from the library. It's a short little book, easily finished in a day (even sandwiched between nursing, cooking, folding laundry, etc.).
I checked it out mostly to see the list of top ten clothing items that Gunn recommends for every woman (although I could have found them via Google, had I bothered to look). Gunn's top ten are:
1. Basic Black Dress
2. Trench Coat
3. Classic Dress Pants
4. White Shirt
5. Jeans
6. Cashmere Sweater
7. Skirt
8. Day Dress
9. Blazer
10. Sweat Suit Alternative
Of these, I have approximately one and a half. I have a pair of jeans that I love, but they do not currently fit. And they are missing. I also have a beautiful cashmere sweater. With a hole at the neck. Oh! I do have a little black dress. Two, in fact. One that even fits!
Gunn's Closet Diagnosis section really got to me. He recommends ruthlessly dividing your clothes into four groups: dump, donate, repair, and keep. The only items allowed in the repair and keep piles must fit, flatter, and inspire. He calls the keep pile the "soul-stirring" pile. If I'm honest (and ruthless), I would not keep a single thing in my closet. My clothes don't even poke my soul, much less stir it.
Tim provides exceptions for what he calls "radical shape-shifting" i.e. pregnancy and dieting. In these cases, he generously allows you to keep clothes that should soon fit again.
Having just been pregnant somewhat recently (five months ago is recent, right?) and being on a diet right now, I qualify for this minor exemption. Yes! But even the stuff I want to get back into (mostly just my old jeans and that other black dress) are not all that fantabulous.
I'm tempted to pull a Clinton and Stacy and just dump everything I own into a bin. Now, who is going to show up with my 5 grand for a new wardrobe?
Monday, July 21, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
No Regrets
When we first moved to Boston, we thought we'd be here two, maybe three years tops. Jeremy is in a Post-doc, so we knew it wouldn't be forever. Now that he's accepted a job, the end is in sight. By the time we move back to San Diego next summer, we will have been here five years.
Five years is the longest we've been in any place since leaving home. I was in LA for 3 years, we spent just under 2 in DC, another year and a half in Atlanta, and 3 more in Savannah. We've been here so long, we're almost locals. (Don't tell the real locals that.) I can actually give directions when people ask and I haven't gotten lost in Salem in a long time.
Now that the end is approaching, I'm thinking of everything in terms of a countdown. This fall will be the last time we go apple picking in New England. This winter will be the last time we can sled right outside our door (and the last time to shovel out the cars. and shovel them again. and again.).
So I started thinking, is there anything really obvious, really Boston-y, that we haven't done yet? If we move home and talk to people about living in Boston, is there anything we've missed that will cause them to say, "You lived there for five years and you never...?"
What have we done? We've been to Fenway, the Aquarium, the Museum of Science. We've been whale watching and apple picking. We've seen Quincy Market, the Common, and the Public Garden. And yes, we've walked the Freedom Trail. (In the rain. While I was pregnant.)
We've walked through downtown Salem on Halloween night. We've dressed our kids up as ducks for the Duckling Day Parade. We've eaten amazing Italian food in the North End.
One very obvious thing we've never done is the duck tour... but c'mon. Isn't that really for the tourists?
What's left? I've got an entire year to cram full of must-see Boston adventures. I just need to figure out what they are.
(So leave me a comment already and tell me!)
Five years is the longest we've been in any place since leaving home. I was in LA for 3 years, we spent just under 2 in DC, another year and a half in Atlanta, and 3 more in Savannah. We've been here so long, we're almost locals. (Don't tell the real locals that.) I can actually give directions when people ask and I haven't gotten lost in Salem in a long time.
Now that the end is approaching, I'm thinking of everything in terms of a countdown. This fall will be the last time we go apple picking in New England. This winter will be the last time we can sled right outside our door (and the last time to shovel out the cars. and shovel them again. and again.).
So I started thinking, is there anything really obvious, really Boston-y, that we haven't done yet? If we move home and talk to people about living in Boston, is there anything we've missed that will cause them to say, "You lived there for five years and you never...?"
What have we done? We've been to Fenway, the Aquarium, the Museum of Science. We've been whale watching and apple picking. We've seen Quincy Market, the Common, and the Public Garden. And yes, we've walked the Freedom Trail. (In the rain. While I was pregnant.)
We've walked through downtown Salem on Halloween night. We've dressed our kids up as ducks for the Duckling Day Parade. We've eaten amazing Italian food in the North End.
One very obvious thing we've never done is the duck tour... but c'mon. Isn't that really for the tourists?
What's left? I've got an entire year to cram full of must-see Boston adventures. I just need to figure out what they are.
(So leave me a comment already and tell me!)
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
De-Evolution of Language
Chelsea's language development seemed to follow a pretty normal pattern. She started out as most kids do, saying stuff like, "Ball!" No verbs, no pronouns. All nouns, all the time.
When she was able to string a few more words together, it was, "Chelsea ball!" Could mean "I want the ball," or "I have the ball," or "Give me that damn ball," but she knew her name and used it.
Recently, she's been working on pronouns. For many months we've heard lots of, "YOU WANT THE BALL!" You meaning Chelsea. This is a tricky one to fix because you have to say something like, "If you want the ball you have to say, 'I want the ball.'" And then her eyes cross and her brain explodes.
She's been getting the hang of it though and we are hearing more and more sentences that start with "I" such as, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!" or, "I'M A BIG SISTER!!!" (which coincidentally also means, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!").
We thought she was right on track to figuring out this whole how-do-I-talk-about-myself thing. And then she started what I can only describe as narration. Now, when she says something, she also SAYS that she said it.
Wha-huh?
For example, if Jeremy is saying something that she doesn't understand, she'll say, "What are you talking about daddy, she said." (Did you follow that? She actually SAYS "she said." Like her life is a book. And she's reading it to us.)
She even adds to the already unnecessary "she said" (or often, "she asked") with even more unnecessary modifiers: "I would not like to go to bed, she said sadly."
My dear child, you don't need to tell us you said it, because we heard you say it. And you certainly don't need to tell us you said it sadly, because we also heard your pouty tone of voice. She wrote. Exasperatedly.
When she was able to string a few more words together, it was, "Chelsea ball!" Could mean "I want the ball," or "I have the ball," or "Give me that damn ball," but she knew her name and used it.
Recently, she's been working on pronouns. For many months we've heard lots of, "YOU WANT THE BALL!" You meaning Chelsea. This is a tricky one to fix because you have to say something like, "If you want the ball you have to say, 'I want the ball.'" And then her eyes cross and her brain explodes.
She's been getting the hang of it though and we are hearing more and more sentences that start with "I" such as, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!" or, "I'M A BIG SISTER!!!" (which coincidentally also means, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!").
We thought she was right on track to figuring out this whole how-do-I-talk-about-myself thing. And then she started what I can only describe as narration. Now, when she says something, she also SAYS that she said it.
Wha-huh?
For example, if Jeremy is saying something that she doesn't understand, she'll say, "What are you talking about daddy, she said." (Did you follow that? She actually SAYS "she said." Like her life is a book. And she's reading it to us.)
She even adds to the already unnecessary "she said" (or often, "she asked") with even more unnecessary modifiers: "I would not like to go to bed, she said sadly."
My dear child, you don't need to tell us you said it, because we heard you say it. And you certainly don't need to tell us you said it sadly, because we also heard your pouty tone of voice. She wrote. Exasperatedly.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Six Flags New England or The Most Expensive Playground in Massachusetts
Jeremy has been wanting to take Chelsea to an amusement park since, um, like, FOREVAH, so when we found out that Six Flags New England had a Thomastown, we were so there.
Once in the park, she lit up just seeing the sign that pointed the way to Thomastown. In the sacred zone of all things Thomas, the first thing she saw was the Harold the Helicopter ride. Harold and Thomas share the top spot in Chelsea's pantheon of imaginary friends, so she ran right to it... and was promptly denied entrance by the attendant. For being too short. (As if!)
I was so flustered because we had checked online in advance to make sure she met the height requirement for all the rides, but I was also eager to placate Chelsea, so we moved on to the next ride: Bertie the Bus. As soon as we sat down on the bus, she stood up and said, "I don't like this!" Strike Two!
We then headed to the last and most important ride in Thomastown: the Thomas train. And just as soon as we got in line, Thomas stopped running. Why? Nobody knew. For how long? No one can say. Good times!
Luckily, there is more to do at Six Flags for a toddler than Thomastown.
We headed to Wiggles World and Chelsea spent an obscene amount of time in the playground. It was supposed to be a big ship, but it was basically just a bunch of stairs leading to slides. Did I mention she's afraid of slides? So she was just climbing up and down stairs. And I'm following her around thinking, "We could've stayed in our apartment building, saved two-and-a-half hours in the car and $74.98 if we'd known you just wanted to climb stairs!!!"
Next, the Wiggles show. It quickly became clear that Chelsea is perhaps the last toddler in New England (and certainly the only one in Wiggles World) who has no idea who the Wiggles are. Despite this, she is mesmerized by the show and after the show is over she hugs (!!!) the two characters who come out for a meet-and-greet and asks us where the other two are. (They are hot and sweaty after "wiggling" around in the sun in ridiculous costumes for your enjoyment. They need some serious AC and about a gallon of water, thanks.)
After she made it onto all the rides in Wiggles World AND all the rides in Looney Tune Land without being dismissed due to size, we decided to try one more time in Thomastown. Screw Harold and Bertie, we need to get this child on Thomas! This was the whole point of the entire trip! And finally, almost as the park was about to close, we got our wish. And by then, we were all ready to collapse forever.
Oh, and Savannah had fun, too.
Here's Jeremy's version, which is roughly the same as mine but with lots more pictures and lots less annoying commentary.
Once in the park, she lit up just seeing the sign that pointed the way to Thomastown. In the sacred zone of all things Thomas, the first thing she saw was the Harold the Helicopter ride. Harold and Thomas share the top spot in Chelsea's pantheon of imaginary friends, so she ran right to it... and was promptly denied entrance by the attendant. For being too short. (As if!)
I was so flustered because we had checked online in advance to make sure she met the height requirement for all the rides, but I was also eager to placate Chelsea, so we moved on to the next ride: Bertie the Bus. As soon as we sat down on the bus, she stood up and said, "I don't like this!" Strike Two!
We then headed to the last and most important ride in Thomastown: the Thomas train. And just as soon as we got in line, Thomas stopped running. Why? Nobody knew. For how long? No one can say. Good times!
Luckily, there is more to do at Six Flags for a toddler than Thomastown.
We headed to Wiggles World and Chelsea spent an obscene amount of time in the playground. It was supposed to be a big ship, but it was basically just a bunch of stairs leading to slides. Did I mention she's afraid of slides? So she was just climbing up and down stairs. And I'm following her around thinking, "We could've stayed in our apartment building, saved two-and-a-half hours in the car and $74.98 if we'd known you just wanted to climb stairs!!!"
Next, the Wiggles show. It quickly became clear that Chelsea is perhaps the last toddler in New England (and certainly the only one in Wiggles World) who has no idea who the Wiggles are. Despite this, she is mesmerized by the show and after the show is over she hugs (!!!) the two characters who come out for a meet-and-greet and asks us where the other two are. (They are hot and sweaty after "wiggling" around in the sun in ridiculous costumes for your enjoyment. They need some serious AC and about a gallon of water, thanks.)
After she made it onto all the rides in Wiggles World AND all the rides in Looney Tune Land without being dismissed due to size, we decided to try one more time in Thomastown. Screw Harold and Bertie, we need to get this child on Thomas! This was the whole point of the entire trip! And finally, almost as the park was about to close, we got our wish. And by then, we were all ready to collapse forever.
Oh, and Savannah had fun, too.
Here's Jeremy's version, which is roughly the same as mine but with lots more pictures and lots less annoying commentary.
Monday, July 7, 2008
More Conversational Genius
#1
While eating hot dogs for dinner:
Chelsea: I'M AFRAID OF MUSTARD!
Parents: ???
Chelsea: AND WATER!!
Chelsea: AND SLIDES!!!
Me: ?
Jeremy: Guess we won't be going on that mustard water slide.
#2
(File this one under "Things You Don't Need a PhD in Biology to Figure Out")
In the car:
Chelsea: Why was the 'kunk (skunk) all alone?
Me: I don't remember, sweetheart.
Chelsea: I DON'T REMEMBER EITHER!
Me: Maybe Daddy knows. Ask Daddy.
Chelsea: (breathlessly) Daddy, why was the 'kunk all alone?
Jeremy: Because he stinks.
(Duh!)
While eating hot dogs for dinner:
Chelsea: I'M AFRAID OF MUSTARD!
Parents: ???
Chelsea: AND WATER!!
Chelsea: AND SLIDES!!!
Me: ?
Jeremy: Guess we won't be going on that mustard water slide.
#2
(File this one under "Things You Don't Need a PhD in Biology to Figure Out")
In the car:
Chelsea: Why was the 'kunk (skunk) all alone?
Me: I don't remember, sweetheart.
Chelsea: I DON'T REMEMBER EITHER!
Me: Maybe Daddy knows. Ask Daddy.
Chelsea: (breathlessly) Daddy, why was the 'kunk all alone?
Jeremy: Because he stinks.
(Duh!)
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Method to her Madness
A few weeks ago, my friend Barbara told me about an online ABC game that her daughter likes. It combines two of Chelsea's favorite things, letters and animals, so it immediately became an obsession at our house.
Usually I let her play it in the morning while I unload the dishwasher or clean up in the kitchen. It's a good way to keep her somewhere I can see her (read: away from her defenseless baby sister) while I'm in the kitchen.
This week we're in Maine and as soon as we got here she started asking how we were going to play the ABC game. We fired up Jeremy's laptop and found it. I decided to sit with her while she played. It's one thing to trash our decade-old desktop, but quite another to ruin Daddy's laptop. The one with all his research data on it.
She chose the letter C first, not surprising since it's the first letter of her name. Then she chose X and Z, the letters to the left of C. After that, she hit all the other letters on the bottom row (V, B, N, M) in order from left to right. She proceeded to hit each letter on the middle row and the top row, again from left to right. After the P, she announced, "Now you're all done with ABC game."
I always wondered how she determined when she was all done. Should I have noticed that every time she finishes there's a penguin on the screen? Who knew that she was such an anal, er, I mean, methodical child?
Amazing the things you learn when you actually pay attention to your kid.
Usually I let her play it in the morning while I unload the dishwasher or clean up in the kitchen. It's a good way to keep her somewhere I can see her (read: away from her defenseless baby sister) while I'm in the kitchen.
This week we're in Maine and as soon as we got here she started asking how we were going to play the ABC game. We fired up Jeremy's laptop and found it. I decided to sit with her while she played. It's one thing to trash our decade-old desktop, but quite another to ruin Daddy's laptop. The one with all his research data on it.
She chose the letter C first, not surprising since it's the first letter of her name. Then she chose X and Z, the letters to the left of C. After that, she hit all the other letters on the bottom row (V, B, N, M) in order from left to right. She proceeded to hit each letter on the middle row and the top row, again from left to right. After the P, she announced, "Now you're all done with ABC game."
I always wondered how she determined when she was all done. Should I have noticed that every time she finishes there's a penguin on the screen? Who knew that she was such an anal, er, I mean, methodical child?
Amazing the things you learn when you actually pay attention to your kid.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Zoning Out
Q: What's the one and only downside to sending my toddler to California for a week?
A: Pacific Standard Time.
She and Jeremy got home late, late, late Friday night and I should have had a clue that she was still on California time by the fact that she was so darn perky at midnight.
The next day, she got up at a reasonable hour and napped at her normal time. We had baby-sitters come to watch the girls so we could go see Chris Rock. I told them Chelsea's bedtime was 8 o'clock, but not to worry if it was a little bit later.
Guess when she finally went to sleep? 10:30pm. Poor baby-sitters! They tried so hard to get Little Miss Stubborn to go to bed and were met with a tirade of crying, foot-stomping, and "I WOULD NOT LIKE TO GO TO BED!!!"
You would think with the number of times that Jeremy and I have traveled to California in the past, oh, TEN YEARS that we've been living on the east coast, we'd have figured out this whole time zone thing.
Guess not.
A: Pacific Standard Time.
She and Jeremy got home late, late, late Friday night and I should have had a clue that she was still on California time by the fact that she was so darn perky at midnight.
The next day, she got up at a reasonable hour and napped at her normal time. We had baby-sitters come to watch the girls so we could go see Chris Rock. I told them Chelsea's bedtime was 8 o'clock, but not to worry if it was a little bit later.
Guess when she finally went to sleep? 10:30pm. Poor baby-sitters! They tried so hard to get Little Miss Stubborn to go to bed and were met with a tirade of crying, foot-stomping, and "I WOULD NOT LIKE TO GO TO BED!!!"
You would think with the number of times that Jeremy and I have traveled to California in the past, oh, TEN YEARS that we've been living on the east coast, we'd have figured out this whole time zone thing.
Guess not.
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