Family Archives - Page 92 of 113

Mar 19, 2008

100 Things You REALLY Want To Know About Me

March 19, 2008 By Christina

The other day I was reading through another blogger’s “100 Things About Me” post, and I have to admit I found it kind of…limited. (No, it wasn’t yours – I liked yours. Or yours – yours made me laugh. It was someone who probably doesn’t even know I exist.)

There were some interesting tidbits in there, but some of the things I wanted to know the most were missing. I mean, your first pet’s name is fine, but what if I wanted to know the most inspiring place you’ve ever visited?

I considered doing one of those 100 Things lists for myself, but when I started to write it, I found myself constantly deleting things. Oh, no one cares that I used to eat the freeze-n-eat popsicles by the 100-count box every week as a kid. Or that I had a really bad perm in 7th grade.

So instead, I’m going to leave it up to all of you. This is your chance to play interviewer and ask me anything you’ve wanted to know about me or my family. Leave a comment with your questions and I’ll reply to all of them. No question is too off the wall. (I’m really asking for it, aren’t I?)

I’d say that I’m going to limit it to 100 questions, but that would assume I’d get more than 100 questions. Or 10 for that matter.

So, uh, don’t leave me high and dry, OK?

Ask a question?

Filed Under: me me me, meme time, TMI

Mar 18, 2008

Recycled, And Yet Brand New

March 18, 2008 By Christina

St. Patrick’s Day, 2005:

Cordelia, 6 months old

St. Patrick’s Day, 2008:

Miranda, 9 months old

I made that dress for Cordy back in 2005, never realizing I’d get another chance to use it again. Mira got just as much attention at the parade today as Cordy did three years ago.

And while Cordy had to miss the parade due to school, she still did her part to celebrate:

Filed Under: Cordy, holidays, memories, Mira

Mar 17, 2008

Dressed Up For The Prom

March 17, 2008 By Christina

When going to a party, there’s always that fear in the back of your mind that you might run into another woman at the party wearing the exact. same. dress. And it’s even worse if she looks better in the dress than you do, right?

OK, truthfully, I probably wouldn’t care. I’ve never been much of a slave to fashion myself. Except for prom in high school. When it came to my prom, I wanted to have the best dress out there. I remember buying Your Prom magazine and clipping out pictures of dresses I liked, scrutinizing the features of each dress, considering which dresses would look best on my figure and so on. It was the one time in my life when you could officially call me “girly”.

For the 1993 prom, I picked the perfect dress. We were still in the final few years of the Southern belle style gowns in the Midwest, before slim-line dresses would become the prom gold standard, and when I saw this dress I knew it was for me. Off the shoulder to show off my upper half, full skirt to hide my lower half, and in my perfect color: royal blue. Plus let’s not forget the lace and tulle.

While the dress was nearly impossible to fold into my date’s car, I felt like a princess. And thankfully, when I walked in I was relieved to see no one else was wearing my dress. (Although two other girls were wearing a dress in the same style, different color, and gave each other the evil eye all night for it).

So you can imagine my surprise when, 15 years after the prom, I see my dress on someone else while surfing through my Bloglines! It would seem that the dress was also perfect for T With Honey. Proof? OK, click the link and take a look at that dress. Yes, she had it pulled up to show off her awesome lace ankle boots, but you can get the general idea.

And now, me in the dress:

Focus on the dress, not the geeky date, OK?

See? Same dress. And my 31 year-old self LOVES that I wasn’t the only one who wore that dress to prom. That dress meant so much to me – I put so much of my self-worth into that dress. How I looked in my prom dress would determine my entire prom night, which would determine how my high school experience would be capped. It’s crazy to think I put so much importance on a dress, but oh how I loved it.

I’m not sure what happened to my prom dress. It hung in my room, plastic dry-cleaning bag still covering it, until I graduated from college. At that point my mom moved, and many of my things were boxed up or discarded. I think I told her to get rid of the dress, and that’s probably for the best. I’d be happy to see one of my daughters wear my wedding dress, but I’d rather they stay far away from that mess of satin, lace and tulle. I don’t think it’ll come back in style during this century.

Anyone else want to show off their totally cool prom dresses? Or even better, prom hair? You can’t see all the curls well in that picture, but I can assure you that it took over three hours and a gazillion bobby pins to pull off that hair sculpture. If someone else posts their prom hair, maybe I’ll dig out a close-up of mine to show off.

Filed Under: me me me, memories

Mar 12, 2008

Socializing Our Girls To Be Meek, Uninteresting Women

March 12, 2008 By Christina

The other day I was at my favorite resale shop (c’mon, you think I pay full price for Gymboree?), and as I was at the back of the store, glancing through the toys, I saw a little girl toddle up to a small basketball hoop. She couldn’t have been more than 18 months, and she was enamored with this little plastic stand with the nylon hoop. She hung onto the rim, bouncing up and down with glee. It was really cute.

Her mom glanced down and, seeing her daughter putting a ball through the hoop, pulled her away, saying, “No honey, that toy isn’t for you. It’s a boy’s toy. Let’s find you a different toy.”

I had already walked past them at this point, and my head nearly snapped off as I turned to see what was going on. The little girl started to fuss and tried to go back to the basketball hoop. The mom was more forceful this time: “No, leave it alone! It’s not for you – I told you it’s a toy for boys! You can’t have it.” She picked the child up so she couldn’t get back to the toy.

An older woman then turned to her as the little girl started to cry, reaching out for the toy she desired. “What’s she trying to play with?”

“Oh, mom, she’s trying to play with that hoop over there. I told her it’s not a toy for her.”

The grandmother made cooing noises as she smiled and stroked the cheek of the little girl. “Honey, that’s a boy toy. Let’s find you a pretty doll, OK? You’ll like a little doll to play with.” The girl’s mom nodded and they walked further down the aisle to find a doll, all while the toddler looked back over her mother’s shoulder at the basketball hoop she wanted so badly.

I didn’t want to get involved. But I nearly did because I was so angry at what I was seeing. This is where it starts. This is where the separation of the sexes begins, as little girls are told that only certain things are proper for them. (And I’m sure some little boys are also told that dolls aren’t appropriate for them. I’m not trying to suggest that boys aren’t subject to gender bias, too.)

Where does it go from here, I wonder?

That little girl won’t play sports, because sports are for boys.

She won’t be encouraged in math or science, because English and the arts are what girls should be good in.

She’ll starve herself and be obsessed with her physical appearance, because she’ll believe that is where her worth lies.

She won’t ask out that nice, shy boy she likes in school – the one who seems to like her too – because girls aren’t supposed to make the first move.

She won’t say no when the next boy she dates pressures her into sex, because she feels that she can’t say no to him because he’s male.

She may go to college, but will pick an easy major and look to get her MRS degree.

She’ll never try to run for president, because that’s a job for boys.

This may sound extreme, but it’s all possible. Why should we limit our children’s futures based on their gender? I thought that we as a society might have progressed a little further than pulling a child away from a basketball hoop and forcing a doll on her instead, but I guess not.

Currently, Cordy’s favorite toys are her rocket ship, her cars, and her building blocks. At the same time, she loves her stuffed bears and must have them in bed with her at night. Her favorite color is purple, but she says she wants to play drums or be an astronaut when she grows up. (Aw, just like mommy. I’m so proud.)

My girls will be raised to believe that they can be anything they want to be. I would never place limits on them because they happen to be female. If they were boys, I’d feel the same way. It’s time to stop thinking that women are only allotted particular interests or opportunities in life because of the double X chromosome set. We’re just as smart as men, and just as capable of performing any job a man can do. (Including careers in science, technology, government and the military.)

I’ll willingly agree that men and women are different, and sometimes behave differently due to our biology. But this doesn’t make one gender inferior to the other. Just because men tend towards more muscle mass doesn’t mean women can’t be athletes. And just because women seem to have more of a nurture instinct doesn’t mean men can’t be excellent stay at home dads.

Beyond our biology, we all have our individual strengths and weaknesses, and those strengths should be encouraged and allowed to flourish. If I had my way, I’d erase from our collective thoughts any idea of a “girl toy” or “boy toy”. They’re just toys.

If that little girl had been mine, I would have bought her that basketball hoop without a second thought. And taught her how to do a slam dunk.