3 Sisters 7 Days

As the success of TLC’s "Say Yes to the Dress" has made clear, the idea that “the” wedding dress exists and must be found is pretty compelling among today’s brides to be. (Though I remain open to the alternative view that “a” wedding dress suitable for a given figure, venue, and price range might be equally worthwhile.) To that end, my little sisters, Jeanna and Terri, have been in Denver, CO for two days, looking for the dress that will make Terri’s dream wedding a reality. This is not that dress – though it is really cute…

Raised on promises…begins Tom Petty’s track about an American girl searching for more. In sum, Mattel’s popular and exceedingly attractive American Girl dolls and abundant accessories offers something, well, less.

Last week, I took my daughters to the American Girl Placein Los Angeles. Like its counterparts in other parts of the country, the Los Angeles store is a showplace and sales center for American Girls dolls and accessories. It also features a doll hair salon, doll hospital, restaurant and photo studio. Since its opening in 2006, the Los Angeles store has become a site for themed birthday parties and a popular tourist attraction.

The American Girl business was founded as Pleasant Company in 1986 by Pleasant T. Rowland. Rowland, an educator, writer, and entrepreneur, realized that while the doll market included baby dolls to facilitate mothering and care-giving play, and “Barbie” dolls tailored to the experiences of teenagers and young adults, there were virtually no dolls that realistically represented girls in the eight-to-twelve age range. This realization, in combination with a trip to Colonial Williamsburg, inspired her to create a line of books, 18-inch historical character dolls, and accessories. The line now also includes a series of arts and craft, inspirational, and low-key self-help books, American Girl Magazine, “Just Like Me” 18-inch dolls, and baby dolls. Like the original American Girl dolls, these products are designed to “celebrate girls and all that they can be, [and to] help girls grow up in a wholesome way, while encouraging them to enjoy girlhood through fun and enchanting play.” Mattel, Inc. acquired American Girl in 1998.

To date, 16 million American Girl dolls and 127 million “American Girl” books have been sold. This is astonishing. 16 million is simply a lot of dolls designed for pre-teen girls in an era when even 5-year-olds are abandoning dolls. My older daughter, Reiley, played with baby dolls until she was about 6 years old; perhaps because she once dreamed of being a fashion designer, she enjoyed dressing Barbie and Polly Pocket dolls for a few years longer. Reiley’s thirteen now and, although the trip to American Girl Place was her idea – we went to the store in New York City when she was a little girl and I’d long promised a trip to the LA store – wasn’t interested in the dolls. She was looking for athletic wear for her doll – a garage sale find that’s currently gone missing. (She didn’t say, but I think the plan is to dress and display her doll much as I do a small collection of soft-bodied dolls on the top shelf in my home office.)

Her five-year-old little sister, Olivia, was much more interested. She picked out a Just Like Me doll, clothes and accessories, and a matching dress for herself. At a total cost of $202 plus tax, it’s clear that buying into the American Girl dream easily exceeds what the average U.S. family of four spends on groceries each week. That said, I have to admit, the shopping experience at American Girl Place was a lot of fun. My selections easily more than doubled the total for Olivia’s: Just Like Me doll set ($110), “Julie’s” floral jumpsuit that reminds me of a pair of pants I had when I was a little girl ($24), yoga outfit and accessories, including a mat ($30), bicycle with sissy bar ($85 – keeping in mind that dependable bikes for flesh-and-bone 9-year-olds don’t cost much more), and “Lanie’s” camper with accessories ($295, though it’s currently sold out) for a pre-tax total of $544!

Of course, I had no intention of opening my wallet anywhere near that wide to get a doll, no matter how cool – come on, a doll that looks like me, wears some combination of yoga clothes and hippie chic, and lives in the best-equipped particle board camper in town – who woudn’t want that? Yet my enthusiasm easily supports marketing professors John F. Sherry Jr., Raymond W. and Kenneth G. Herrick’s argument that American Girl shoppers tend to attach a set of meanings to the product and the retail experience, even creating memories, family stories and values around them. Ah, ha! Admittedly, it is eerie seeing so many relatively big girls and their dolls dressed alike, but both the “window” shopping and reminiscing is fun.

It’s also disturbingly exclusionary. Bracketing the question of representativeness – is the inclusion of Mexican-American Josephina (circa 1824) and homeless Gwen (friend to 2009 doll of the year, Chrissa) sufficiently “American”? – many pretty typical, actual American girls are routinely left out of the American Girl experience. Most notable among them is Etta from Brooklyn, who’s American Girl look-a-like doll, Gracie ($29.99 at Target), was refused service at the American Girl doll salon in New York because she isn’t “a real [American Girl] doll.” I recently learned that because Etta was a guest at a friend’s American Girl birthday party, she could have avoided the ridicule associated with bringing Gracie along by borrowing a genuine American Girl doll on-site.

So how can an everyday American girl make her way into the American Girl club despite her parents’ income and/or ethics? A quick online search buttressed by a week of casual conversations with middle-income Southern California moms suggests that despite Gracie’s arguably substandard craftsmanship, look-alikes top the list of ways to “do American Girl” on the cheap. Another tack is to suck up the cost of an authentic American Girl doll – especially if the doll is earned for, say, reading the books – and purchase knock off togs and accessories, including those available to make or buy for Gracie and similarly sized dolls. This approach is favored by those willing to search Craigslist, Amazon, and eBay for a “real” American Doll at much less than its $95 minimum retail price.

I’ve been wearing a sports bra just about everyday since I realized I was pregnant. Prior to actually knowing I was pregnant, I just assumed the sore breasts would eventually go away. Once I realized it would take awhile, I wanted to wear a bra that wouldn’t allow them to move. The sports bra fit the ticket.

Unfortunately, I can’t (or don’t want to) wear a sports bra for my entire pregnancy; besides, most of my tops don’t look good with a sports bra. For the past six weeks or so I’ve been wanting to go to a maternity store to get a bra that might be more comfortable. In addition, my pants haven’t fit right since the end of my third month. I’ve been cycling through two pairs of jeans every other day and they are getting pretty worn. My sister Juliann told me about a band that goes around your waist and covers your jeans so you can wear them with the button undone. This seemed like a really good option.

Going to the maternity store posed a different problem. There was just something about buying maternity clothes I wasn’t feeling right about. Was I wearing them too soon? Can’t I hold off one more month? I am four months pregnant today, this past weekend, I decided I had no other option but to get some clothes. I didn’t want to go alone so I asked my sister Kathy Jo to go with me. I hate shopping in general, and shopping for pregnancy clothes wasn’t going to make it any better.

I had a mission. A) buy a comfortable bra, and B) find out about this cloth band Juliann was talking about. We walked in and a super nice sales lady asked me if I needed any help, I of course, I said, “No.” Then I thought for a minute, and realized I had no idea what exactly I needed or wanted. I asked about the bands, and she said they were fantastic. It’s called the Tummy Sleeve and fits over your belly and top of your jeans with the button undone. The sales lady explained that  you can even have it sit low on your hips and it looks like you’re layering. I bought two, one in black and white.

Next, bras. I gave her my size, and she picked out a ton for me to try on. While standing there waiting for her to get the bras, I saw t-shirts and tanks. I was wearing a normal t-shirt of mine but with the ever expanding belly and larger breasts, the t-shirt looked much too short. I decided to try on some tops while I tried on the bras. After the fourth bra, I found one that fit right! I bought two, in black and beige. I also bought t-shirts and tanks, which look okay – two of each.

Today I’m wearing my first maternity outfit: new bra, t-shirt, and Tummy Sleeve, and I feel pretty good. It’s really nice to actually wear another pair of jeans and heals! I feel normal.

Despite my relatively frequent conversations with friends and family about the virtues (and some vices) of home-schooling versus traditional public schooling, I rarely actually think about public school culture. Today was one of those times.

Our brother Brian was in town, visiting from Colorado, so we took off most of the day to hang out with him. The morning was devoted to running errands, including haircuts for the boys and a trip to the local mall to have my eyebrows threaded (he enjoyed reclining while he waited, and looked after Olivia for me), take care of some exchanges, and take advantage of the FREE gift with purchase promotion at Macy’s Clinique counter; I got two, but that’s another story).

On the way out, we passed a crowd of girls, who looked 12 but must have been closer to 16 because one of them drove. It was about lunch time, so it’s likely they had off-campus passes. Every one of them was wearing tight jeans, fitted tee with a brand logo, and flats. Every one of them had long, straight hair parted off-center and falling in her eyes. I noticed, but didn’t say a thing…but Reiley did:

“Those girls look exactly alike.”

“Yeah,” Olivia added. “Maybe they’re twins.”

“That’s how it is in high school,” Quentin said. “All the girls like to dress the same.”

“See what you’re missing?” I said. (No, I couldn’t help myself at this point.)

“Well, I wouldn’t,” Reiley said. “I’d dress normal.”

We’ll see.

After we left the mall, we stopped at Target to get candy to fill Easter eggs (Brian had agreed to take the candy and plastic eggs with him to dinner with our Mother, this year’s Easter egg hunt organizer), picked up a pizza to take home, and headed up the hill and back to the house. As we turned into our community, the kids noticed that the local public school was surrounded by cars – a sure sign that school was nearly out. Yet some children were still out in the field playing. Parker, who has never attended “regular” school, asked his older siblings, both short-term public school vets, what they were doing.

“Oh, it’s PE; some of the kids, usually the upper grades, have PE last,” Quentin said.

“Or it could still be recess, the last one” Reiley said.

“That looks like fun,” Parker said, “Does everyone get to [have recess]?”

“No,” Quentin said, “Sometimes you have to sit out.”

“Huh?” Parker said. He was clearly alarmed.

“Yeah, like when you don’t finish your work,” Reiley said. “One time, I couldn’t think of what I wanted to be when I grow up, so I had to sit on the benches during recess. It was for our time capsule.”

I hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but that incident was among the ones that “pushed me over the edge” into homeschooling. Reiley was supposed to write a short essay about what she wanted to be when she grew up. After a full 45 minutes of consideration, the entire amount of time she had ever pondered this important question in all of her seven years of life to date, she hadn’t written a thing. Even though it’s perfectly natural not to know what you want to be – ever, let alone in second grade – and entirely understandable that a child will need more than 45 minutes to complete an essay, Reiley was punished by missing recess. She was devastated. I was outraged.

Now she has “study breaks” when she needs them, and her younger siblings don’t know what recess is…

In the brief amount of time it took me to reminisce, the kids were over it. By the time the children started filing out of their classrooms, we were at home, eating pizza.

Sometimes I find myself wondering where I missed that fork in the rode that would have landed me on Elfin Forest Rd. in elite Rancho Santa Fe, California. Now, I’m beginning to think it may not be me at all. I think I just may have chosen the “road less traveled”; it just took a while for everyone else to catch up.

Take eating locally, for instance. Suddenly, it seems, everyone’s kitchen is sporting a box of vegetables and other farm products, thanks to a boom in CSA memberships. CSA or Community Supported Agriculture has become a popular and increasingly convenient way for ordinary consumers to buy and eat local, seasonal produce. Consumers purchase a share/membership/subscription and receive a box/bag/basket of seasonal produce each week throughout the farming season. In addition to supporting local agriculture and eating “better,” both in terms of nutritional content and sustainability, share-holders/members/subscribers typically gain access to local farms via tours, opportunities to work, and/or ability simply to visit.

This is great. Really. I’ve been a mostly hard core advocate of “slow food” since before it was a movement. I whole-heartedly support CSA and all the nutritional and social benefits associated with it, and even belonged to the first CSA operation available in our community. I wasn’t trendy…no, just a really healthy “kook,” as far as friends and family were concerned.

Then there are the barefoot runners. Granted, I “fell” into this one because I’m one of the lucky few who naturally run “on their toes.” The growing popularity of forefoot, if not barefoot, running in the wake of Christopher McDougall’s best-selling  Born to Run simply makes me look like a pro at what others are struggling to learn how to do.

Former war correspondent turned barefoot running guru, McDougall argues that humans evolved for long-distance running - on bare or barely protected feet, which prompts a softer, forefoot form than contemporary running shoes permit. McDougall one of among many currently teaching runners how to run “naturally” – if not barefoot, then in Vibram Five Fingers or other minimalist shoes, including my own favorites: Nike Free and Newton. Their success has prompted me to consider modifying my teaching portfolio to include forefoot running clinics…

Or maybe “baby wearing” workshops would be more lucrative. Deborah Netburnrecently reported in the LA Times that moms are giving up new shoes in favor of filling their closets with baby carriers! Baby carriers support attachment parenting, a philosophy that promotes the psychological and physiological benefits of establishing and sustaining a close parent-child bond. I carried all four of my own children for the first three years of their lives for these benefits, in part, but also because it was simply easier and more convenient than the then-popular infant-seat/hand-carrier/stroller “transformer.” (While I can understand a stroller, I still do not “get” why anyone would willingly haul around a bulky plastic seat!).

Instead of kudos, I got stares…

Today, women are paying up to $120 each for carriers intended to suit their own and their child’s moment-to-moment attire and mood…and taking classes to learn how to wear their babies! Instruction typically covers how to select among the wide variety of predominantly cloth baby carriers currently on the market, how to adjust the carrier with baby on-board, and how to incorporate baby wearing into mom’s daily activities.

In contrast, I had to search for my first baby “sling,” via tiny ads in parenting magazines and the telephone – not for lack of Internet access, but rather due to the paucity of manufacturer URLs. It cost $40 and was designed by Ms. Sears – yes, the famed doctor’s wife. My choice consisted of roughly six different fabrics, and, when baby arrived, I just threw it over my shoulder, popped him in, and winged it from that point.

Again, it’s all good – but please…even baby-wearing in the modern age isn’t new.

That gives me an idea. My own mother – get this – simply carried all NINE of her children by shifting us from hip to hip throughout the day, adapting over the years to working with one hand at a time. She kept us close and became ambidexstrous. In this economy, I bet could make a fortune with “no prop” baby carrying!

Elfin Forest, here I come.

A few weeks ago, Maz put a hole in his slippers by “grilling” them. I couldn’t have been more pleased. I mean, these things were hideous. They looked like a beat up ballet slipper!  They fit  tight and I think that if he really tried, he probably could have done a plie (if he was a tiny, tiny bit coordinated). With his old slippers, he enjoyed talking about his ”grilling slippers” all the time.  “Let me just put my grilling slippers on”…EVERY SINGLE TIME.  If I had a dollar every time I heard that statement, I would be on the beach in Bora Bora right no, thanking his grilling slippers for the wonderful vacation.  Goodbye holy slippers, you will be missed.

Last week, I ran across a new pair of slippers, what I call “old man slippers” and I knew they would be perfect for Maz.  He absolutely loves them! When he gets home at night, they are the first things on his feet.  He now turned the “grilling slippers” into the everything slippers.  “Sure, I’ll feed Sammy; let me just get my slippers on”…”I can cook, now that I have my slippers on,” and “Man, these slippers keep my feet warm; now, I can go out to the garage.” This goes on and on and on and on.

Good news is,  he has become more active and engaging in the household activities now that he has the proper footwear…because for some reason, nothing can get done inside or outside the house without his slippers.  I just laugh and take it all in.

Vibram didn’t create it’s Five Fingers footwear as a conversation piece, but that’s how they’ve worked for me – repeatedly and in nearly every setting where I’ve worn them. Most recently, I wore them on a series of walking tours in New Orleans. In addition to countless looks and whispers on the theme of “Did you see her shoes?” and “Those shoes have toes!” one guy actually got down on his knees outside the Plaza de Espana to examine my shoes and confirm that they really have (Vibram) soles.

Thank goodness I’ve developed a habit of throwing out my holy socks and tossing mismatched socks in the trash. On a recent trip through airport security, I pulled off my boots to reveal matching brown socks. The woman ahead of me was not so fortunate. Attired from head to the top of her boots ready to march straight from the plane to the boardroom, I heard her wince when she pulled off her second boot to reveal NOT another black sock, but a striped one with a hole in the toe that fell loosely around her ankle.

From the pictures available online, she’s far from the only one who could really use sock-shoes, at least.

Yesterday, a Los Angeles Times fashion critic,  Booth Moore, wrote that Michelle Obama “has made it OK for smart women to care about what they wear.” Really? I thought the stereotypical be-speckled and flat chested brunette with encyclopedic knowledge and knack for problem solving had died a good death long ago. Apparently not. According to Sherrie Inness, popular culture continues to affirm stereotypical female geek, who is only gorgeous when transformed by the loss of her glasses. Likewise, these smart women – dare I say “heroines”? – still face all manner of sexual harassment, and remain woefully unable to find men who appreciate them.

At least, things have changed in real life.

Although physical beauty and intelligence should evolve together (intelligence is the basis for male status; high status men “get” the beautiful “girls”; both beauty and intelligence are heritable), it’s not yet clear whether or not they do…except on one measure of physical attraction: boobs. Many “real” smart women are remarkably well endowed. A 2003 study found that big-busted women have higher I.Q.s than their less well endowed sisters. More specifically, women with “large” and “extra-large” breasts scored an average of 10 points higher on standard I.Q. tests than women with “extra-small” to “medium” breasts; even women with just medium-sized breasts beat out the smaller breasted women.

I know what’s coming…what about breast implants? There don’t appear to be any studies on the relationship between implant size and intelligence; however, the blogosphere includes testimonies on the wisdom of breast augmentation for ensuring job security and, yes, “catching” that intelligent man!

Seriously, these are my new running gloves…

I have tried just about everything to keep my fingers warm, and I would be happy if they would just not freeze and turn white at the tips.  This winter has been brutal already – the temperature this morning is a whopping 2 degrees with wind!  That said, my hands and fingers have not welcomed the freezing temps as much as I would like.

Last year my hands froze as well, but I don’t remember them freezing like this. Yes I did have to use hand warmers inside mittens or gloves (they still froze), and it did take about 3-4 miles to warm up…but I seemed to deal.  This year, not so much.

I usually wear running liners, then a warm glove that fights wind and water  and my hands warm up later in the run.  I do have to ball my hands up in a fist inside the palm of the gloves for the blood to start circulating.  I don’t know how a sport that is so aerobic can fail to circulate the blood to my fingers…

My solution:  Ridgecrest Mountaineering Mitts.  Waterproof, windproof, breathable with Primaloft (synthetic down). I tried my hardest for it not to come down to this. I wanted so badly for the cute little running gloves to workout, but I have to think of my digits and make them comfortable.  On the upside, I think I can use these for snowboarding too .