R dress

if there is an "R" anywhere in sight ruthie will find it. "that my letter!" "R! R!" finding her very own letter makes her hour, and hearing that little voice shout in glee makes mine. 

two years ago (three?) when eve was little(r) i decided it was time to start making the dresses i had floating around in my head. a dress a lot like this was the first thing i made. eve wandered around brooklyn, twirling and showing off her letter E with pride. last year ruthie started trying to wear that dress. she would complain about the E not being her letter. i would complain as i tried to pull the dress closed over ruthie's belly (these littles have such different bodies). . .  no more complaining! out came the muslin, the freezer paper and fabric paint, and yesterday my littlest girl got a dress just right for her. now she can always find her very own letter, even in the off chance that we find ourselves without the signs and graffiti of the city to search. 

clothes for (fake) babies

eve's teacher is every parent's dream; fun, smart, kind, engaging and so funny. she is also resourceful. in a school system dealing with horrendous cuts to an already insufficient budget, she manages, piece by piece, to get everything their little classroom needs. mostly through the incredible donorschoose.org. "teachers ask. you choose. children learn" such a valuable tool- both for teachers and for those who would like to give to the cause of education.

the most recent result of people's generosity through donorschoose.org is a group of four baby dolls that live in the dramatic play area of the classroom. clad only in diapers, these babies were in some serious need of coverage (and really, isn't the best part of playing with dolls the dressing and the undressing?). so, out of the scrap pile these four outfits were born. 

 

if you are looking to achieve super hero status among the group of girls in your daughter's pre-k class, make outfits for their dolls. they will look at you in wonder. they will love you. they will ask if you can make dresses for them. your daughter will squeeze your hand in appreciation and pride. you will be embarrassed by the amount of attention you are getting from these 4-year-olds. . . but not too embarrassed because, man, feeling like a super hero for a few minutes is fun.  

++eve would like to make it clear that these pictures are all of the same doll. the four dolls in the classroom are a much more accurate reflection of the diversity of the students. 

++ thanks to all of you for your concern and good wishes toward our little family. it is wonderful to be surrounded by so many kind and incredible people. we are all well and very thankful to be so. thank you, again! 

monday evening

after eight years in new york it finally happened. we got mugged. it was different than i imagined. i never imagined it happening in the daylight. i never imagined a mugger in his 40s. and i never imagined it happening while my kids played games around our feet.

i stared at his painted-on beard, at the upper lip filling the gaps where his teeth should have been, at his long brown coat, at the half smoked cigarette in his left hand as his right held the partially concealed revolver. he needed money. he had kids. he loved kids. our kids were beautiful. he didn't want to hurt them. he didn't want to shoot us. but he had $900 rent due. he needed $900. he wouldn't go to a shelter. he wouldn't put his kids on the street. he needed $900. please. he didn't want to kill our kids. he loves kids. 

i searched my pockets. i had $0.75, maybe $0.80. i had a $20 watch. i took it off and handed it over. he didn't want change. he needed $900. what were we going to do for him? he had no choice. i fished some more. another quarter. chip shifted charlie and pulled out his wallet. i stared at that beard. was it shoe polish? was it a disguise or just to look good? was that gun real? it looked too small to be real. i was calm. i calmly told him to chill out. but i was also irritated, really irritated. chip handed over the wallet, empty of cash, full of credit cards and id's. i wanted the id. he would mail it to us. i wanted to get it now, i didn't think he didn't need my husband's license. he'd put it in the mail. i persisted. he raised his voice. don't push it, lady. i didn't. my hands went up. he told us to go to our apartment. "go inside mama." he didn't want to hurt no one. he just wanted to go. we just wanted it to be over. it finally was. 

i went inside to cancel credit cards. chip pulled out his phone to call 911. "no! you only call 911 if there's an emergency!" eve cried. they had no idea what had just happened as they giggled and played and we talked with the man in the doorway.

i always imagined being scared, too scared to scream, too scared to think. but i wasn't. strangely, i was not scared at all, only irritated. maybe because chip was at my side or maybe because the man kept shifting his body so the girls wouldn't see the gun. maybe because he seemed affected, almost tortured when he first saw eve's face. maybe i believed him. or maybe i've been in new york long enough. or maybe i just couldn't believe what was happening, that his man was mugging a family of five, my family of five. 

police came, chip went to the precinct, detectives were assigned. i dreamt about him all night and awoke remembering every detail of his face. i left to the suburbs for a happily pre-planned overnight stay. chip got a call at work. a kind stranger found his wallet and called his credit card companies to contact him. everything was there, except the metro card and his driver's license. maybe the mugger put it in the mail after all. or maybe he took it out to spite me. . . who knows. 

how's that for heavy fare? but, after the many many talks with the girls about the choices we make, taking responsibility for those choices and controlling our emotions, we're back to our usual business. . . like making a scarf in commemoration of our group mugging experience. one four inch wide strip cut from black and white striped knit and wrapped around neck. not one stitch of sewing. i'm certain i made this in less time than the mugging lasted. . and don't worry, the girls don't know what this is "in memory of," that's my little secret. . .

arrows and (more) hearts

let's face it, valentines without candy aren't much use to kids. but, we're giving it a go anyway. with a little felt and a lot of help from eve, bracelets were made for the classmates. will they be passed by as the greedy little hands search for more pink laffy taffy? probably. but i remain hopeful that these little bracelets will find a home on the little four-year-old wrists at some point. the arrows should lure in the danger seeking boys while bright pink hearts are like a siren's song to this group of little girls.  

for the girls

for the boys

eve was busy cutting out hearts and addressing the cards while i trimmed her edges, rounded corners, and sewed pink and red buttons for the bracelet closure. we both "threaded" the hearts/arrows on the bands and eve took particular care assigning each friend a specific bracelet. she amazed me over and over again with remembering the assignments perfectly (i tried to trick her). . .  a quick project that should complement the kit kat (oh, i hope there are kit kats) and m&m hands. 

happy valentine's day to everyone! and to those celebrating president's day, enjoy the long weekend! we'll be making our log cabin cake in honor of mr. lincoln and enjoying some long overdue time together. 

hearts in their hair

because they are little girls who love to talk in high voices and wear high shoes. and because no matter how foul the mood brewing between their little eyebrows, when given a heart- any heart- their world becomes warm and bright and magical again. ponies, unicorns and princesses return and they are back to the work of rescuing us all from the ever present danger of hot lava.

and because if you're going to wear a garland of bright pink felt circles and hearts in your hair, this is the week to do it, right?

++

i took pictures of the girls after writing the above. turns out hearts on the head are not the cure for everything, especially for a mom who won't stop taking pictures of girls who have better things to do. . . 

hideout skirt

the stiffest denim known to man. sometimes i pull fabric out of the hatch and wonder what i was thinking when i bought it. . . especially when there is three yards of it taking up our very very precious closet space. . . but then i make a skirt for my daughter out of it. not only does the indestructible skirt look fine on the child, but in a desperate situation, it could also serve as a lampshade. brilliant purchase after all. 

you should have seen the eye-roll eve gave me when i mentioned the skirt-as-lampshade nonsense. i thought her eyes might actually fall into the back of her head forever. apparently, much more serious business was at hand. business like finding the perfect "hideout" for the family of dolls on the run from "mean animals . . . so they won't eat them up." but apparently the family can spare their feet. . . who's rolling their eyes now, eve? 

obnoxious mothering aside, i really think a nice, wide hem goes a long way in making a simple handmade skirt successful. it looks great and you've got the option of lengthening when needed. especially useful for those years when kids never seem to get wider, only longer and longer. barring any unforeseen run-ins with mean animals.