Yesterday I went looking for a shirt for Beckett to wear for his 3 yr. picture. (Yes, he turned 3 way back in March, but we were moving then, and time got the best of us, and now it's July, so I figure we should get this kid a photo shoot before we forget he was ever 3.) He has plenty of cute t-shirts, but not any picture-worthy shirts, at least not any without strawberry stains, and absolutley nothing he owns coordinated with Kyler's outfit. So, I loaded up the kids and headed to the mall. We went to the really nice mall, the one with Neiman's and Barney's, in part because it's the closest to our house and in part because it's my favorite place to window shop. Because it's an upper-class mall, it doesn't have stores like The Children's Place or even Gymboree. It has kids' stores with fancy French names that carry clothes so pretty I'd be afraid to let my children leave the house in them. Check that, I'd be afraid to let my children come in 50 feet of them.
So, why, on our modest budget did I choose this mall to find Beckett a shirt? Good question! Because it's 102 degrees in late August, so logically all the stores have summer clothes on clearance to make room for the back-to-school sweaters the kids in Dallas can wear on the one cold day this coming winter.
I venture into Crewcuts, the kids' version of J.Crew and glance at the new fall fashions up front. You know, just to see. I mean, how bad could it be? Everything in this store's in English. That's gotta make it cheaper, right? Well, how about a cashmere sweater for your 3 year old for $199? That way, he can look trendy and sophisticated and feel oh so cozy as he's gluing popsicle sticks to construction paper in preschool. After all, Clinton and Stacy on What Not to Wear swear you haven't lived until you've worn cashmere, and I want my son to live! Those other kids in their sensible discount store cottyn/poly knock-offs will be sooo envious!
I put down the sweater and head to the clearance racks at the back of the store. Of course, like in all kids' clothing stores, there are racks upon racks of adorable girls' clothes waiting to be swept up at discounted rates, while there's one pathetic, half-rack of boys' clothes. I guess boys get the message young, "clothes are not important for you. just cover yourself and be done," leaving us women to pick up the pieces of this industry-driven sabotage years down the road so men don't look like, well, men. Okay, but I'm off-track. Back to the high-priced shopping. I find a great pair of Madras plaid shorts. I know, I went looking for a shirt, but the shorts are fantastic and would look great with the wellies I got on clearance at Target last week (3 bucks!). (Did I mention we're having his picture taken in a creek? Seriously, he's going to be romping around in a creek.) I pick up the shorts, which were originally priced at $58 (I don't even have $58 shorts), but are marked down to $19.99. Still a little pricey, but I can make it work. And, come on, he's going to be wearing shorts into November, so he'll get wear out of them. I find a great coordinating polo shirt marked down to $9.99 from $36, and I go to the register.
There's a lady in front of me buying, by what I can tell from peering obviously over her shoulder, one outfit for her son. Looks like some pants, a t-shirt of some kind and a zippered hoodie. If you're quick, you can tell by my title above what her total was. If not, I'll spell it out for you: $261.27. Yep, that's one outfit. Okay, okay, the hoodie could technically be considered a winter jacket (it is Texas, after all) and, therefore, increase it's versatility. So, yeah, now that I think about, that was totally worth the $261.27. I'm rethinking things. Where'd I put that cashmere sweater?!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Insect Rights Now!
Well, as you can see, I'm up to whopping entry #2 on my blog. So, naturally, you'd think I've taken the past 5 months to prepare something really hilarious, thought-provoking or informative to write about. You'd be disastrously wrong. My good intentions of blogging often were just that. Many a day have passed where I've written blog entries entirely in my head, saving them there for that free moment I need to transfer them to the computer. Problem is, by the time that free moment arrives, I've forgotten what I wanted to write about. Such is life.
With concentrated effort, I'm propelling this blog forward and committing to blogging at least once a week. This should be a doable feat, even for me. Not that I have delusions that y'all are awaiting my entries with eager anticipation, checking my blog a few times a day to see the latest antics of my life. But, if you're interested on the daily happenings and misadventures of my kids, you won't be disappointed.
My daily offering:
Today, Beckett told me (he's 3) sometimes he doesn't like me because I make him angry. Now, Beckett is fickle with his feelings, so when he says stuff like this it doesn't bother me. He doesn't like Mommy (not me, remember, I'm Mama) every few days because "she's mean" (like when she makes him sit down in the bathtub or because he doesn't like her car. I'm not sure how that makes her "mean," but, whatever, he's 3). But, typically, the "I don't like you" declaration manages to pass me by, even if I do deserve it. So, I knew it must be something really big, really horrible that I'd done to receive such a sentiment. So, with a heavy heart, I asked him why. He replied, "You pick ants and throw them." I guess to Beckett, this is a very, very bad thing. Maybe he'll grow up to be an insects' rights activist. After all, who is going to protect those stinging fire ants in their backyard mounds from all the invading parents who frantically try to remove them from their child's limbs only to find that not only does your child now have 25 fire ant bites, but you've gotten a few yourself. Really, who's standing up for the ants? I've got to say, Beckett's good at finding a niche. Did I mention he wants to be a ladybug for Halloween?
With concentrated effort, I'm propelling this blog forward and committing to blogging at least once a week. This should be a doable feat, even for me. Not that I have delusions that y'all are awaiting my entries with eager anticipation, checking my blog a few times a day to see the latest antics of my life. But, if you're interested on the daily happenings and misadventures of my kids, you won't be disappointed.
My daily offering:
Today, Beckett told me (he's 3) sometimes he doesn't like me because I make him angry. Now, Beckett is fickle with his feelings, so when he says stuff like this it doesn't bother me. He doesn't like Mommy (not me, remember, I'm Mama) every few days because "she's mean" (like when she makes him sit down in the bathtub or because he doesn't like her car. I'm not sure how that makes her "mean," but, whatever, he's 3). But, typically, the "I don't like you" declaration manages to pass me by, even if I do deserve it. So, I knew it must be something really big, really horrible that I'd done to receive such a sentiment. So, with a heavy heart, I asked him why. He replied, "You pick ants and throw them." I guess to Beckett, this is a very, very bad thing. Maybe he'll grow up to be an insects' rights activist. After all, who is going to protect those stinging fire ants in their backyard mounds from all the invading parents who frantically try to remove them from their child's limbs only to find that not only does your child now have 25 fire ant bites, but you've gotten a few yourself. Really, who's standing up for the ants? I've got to say, Beckett's good at finding a niche. Did I mention he wants to be a ladybug for Halloween?
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