Portable, Go-Anywhere High Chair

So happy to be carrying these fabulous high chairs.  Lightweight, no assembly required, sturdy.  Each comes with its own matching carrying bag.

Kudzu Keepsakes has these in stock in our two physical locations.  We also take orders on line for the solid colors, camo, and collegiate styles.  

Ideal for grandparents, traveling families, active families, or at home.  

Find us on Facebook: PortableHighChairCarolina.

It Takes Two!

            Last week, I had almost-five-year-old Harrison and just-turned-two-year-old Fisher in the back seat of the car, heading to our house after getting them from their other grandmother’s house. 

            I told the boys I had a little surprise for them at home.  Harrison quickly asked, “Is it one thing or two?”

            When I answered that there were two – one for him and one for Fisher -  Harrison said that was good, because when there’s only one thing, they fight. 

            So, I thought, this might be a great one of those “teachable moments.”  I explained how important it is to share, that sharing with others is good and that taking turns is what people need to learn to do. 

            That’s when Harrison spoke up again: “The thing about sharing is when me and Fisher share, Fisher doesn’t.”

            Yep, that could certainly be a problem – when two people share except that one of ‘em doesn’t. 

            We all know what that’s like, don’t we? 

Peanut Butter Sausage

So, here I am for a couple of days taking care of two grandsons, Harrison, 3 3/4, and Fisher, 11 months.  Yes, I put "3 3/4" 'cause there's a lot of difference in 3 and 4.  He'll be 4 in mid-March. 

This morning I asked Harrison what he wanted for breakfast.  Well, that was my first mistake; his mom has told me before not to ever ask Harrison what he wants to eat - just fix something and tell him that's what he's having. 

By the time I remembered her advice, the damage was already done. 

Harrison answered that he wanted "peanut butter sausage."  I was still half-asleep, so I thought perhaps I was hearing things; I asked again, and again got the same answer: "peanut butter sausage."

I had no idea what peanut butter sausage was.  I told Harrison I had no idea what he was talking about.  Actually, my exact words were: "What in tarnation is peanut butter sausage?" 

He said, "I'll show you."  He went to the refrigerator and opened the door.  Then, as he looked over the contents, he explained, "You get the sausage out of the drawer and put peanut butter all over it.  Then you mix it with milk.  And then with cheese.  And then with diet Coke.  You put grapes next to it."

By then, of course, I knew there was no such thing as peanut butter sausage. 

Harrison knows how to play tricks on his grandma.  And he does it with such a straight face.  And a sweet, innocent one at that. 

He had cereal for breakfast. 

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It's Breaking News, and a Sigh Heard 'Round the World

Remember learning about the “shot heard around the world?”


There was something similar last week. It was a widespread and collective sigh of relief heard ‘round the world.

You heard it, didn’t you? It was the response to the headline-grabbing news that Bert and Ernie would not be getting married.

Yes, right in there with joblessness, the economy, the stock market, the war in Afghanistan, missing children and more, we learned from Sesame Street folks that the popular Muppets would not be getting hitched.


Bert & Ernie photo from their Facebook page


Bert and Ernie, you see, are both males and they’ve been roommates a long time. Recently, there was a petition encouraging Bert and Ernie just to go ahead and tie the knot, now that gay marriages are legal in New York.

Sesame Street responded that the two wouldn’t be getting married: "They were created to teach preschoolers that people can be good friends with those who are very different from themselves."

The explanation is that Bert and Ernie wouldn’t be legalizing a relationship that didn’t exist; they are simply roommates and good friends with “no sexual orientation.”

I say “hooray” to the Sesame Street crowd but my “hooray” has nothing to do with whether or not Bert and Ernie are gay. I’m just sick and tired of issues being injected where they don’t belong.

Bert and Ernie, modeled on a banana and an orange when created, were introduced in 1969. They are puppets, for goodness sakes.

Whether Bert and Ernie are gay or not shouldn’t even be addressed on this children’s show.

Like the Sesame Street statement said, they are around to teach tolerance and friendship “with those who are very different from themselves.”

Besides, we’re told these two puppets have no sexual orientation at all.

Now, isn’t that different enough?


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Sweet Potatoes and the Three-Year-Old

It's just as Art Linkletter thought: Kids say the darndest things.

The other night, I was helping son-in-law Adam with 3-year-old Harrison and 7-month-old Fisher.  Adam put food on Harrison's plate for dinner.  Harrison did a pretty good job with everything except the sweet potatoes. 

Finally, Adam asked, "Harrison, why aren't you eating the sweet potatoes."

Harrison replied, "I don't like them."

So Adam asked, "Why?  Is it the taste or the texture."

Harrison garbled out, "The tex-chur."

Adam smiled and said, "Harrison, do you even know what 'texture' means?"

He answered, "It means it's gross!"


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At the Age of Twelve????

I’m all for safety but, sometimes, things get just a bit ridiculous.


Yes, I believe in seatbelts, whether it’s the law or not. The same goes for putting children in car seats.

But the latest recommendation is a bit much. Earlier this month, the American Academy of Pediatrics announced revised guidelines for children in cars. The first announcement I heard on TV was that the organization is recommending booster seats for children up through 12.

Yes, 12!

I started first grade when I was five, so that means I was entering 8th grade at the age of 12. I cannot imagine being in a booster seat in the 8th grade!

When I was growing up, we could get driving permits at the age of 14 in South Carolina. Can you imagine going from booster seat to driving in one year’s time? Of course, way back then, we didn’t even have seatbelts in cars. And infants often were in the laps of parents instead of in car seats.

A 12-year-old is, obviously, just about a teenager. A 12-year-old likely would rather walk or ride a bike than sit in a booster seat in the back seat of a car, which is where the AAP says they should be.

Peter the Great became czar at the age of 10. Chopin composed two polonaises at the age of seven and gave a public performance at the age of eight. Mozart was composing at the age of five and wrote his first symphony at the age of eight.

At the ripe old age of 13, Michael Jackson launched his solo career, following up on his success as part of his family’s Jackson 5. Magellan sailed around the Cape of Good Hope at the age of 17.

Just recently, Trevor Bayne became the youngest-ever winner of the Daytona 500 at the age of 20. I’ll bet he wasn’t in a booster seat at the age of 12.

Me? You Want Me????

In most places across the US, schools are not in session.  Students are likely delighted.  Parents are thinking the break is way too long; teachers are thinking it's way to short. 

I was just reflecting on some of the things teachers are missing during this break.  For example:

Children just love show-and-tell time at school, don’t they?


Show-and-tell is an exciting time for children to share something important to them and to share a glimpse into their lives away from the classroom. It’s a time for children to gain confidence in making presentations in front of others, which is really, really important.

Years ago, I was filled with pride when Tree, my fifth-grade son, asked me if I would go with him for the class show-and-tell time!

I thought maybe the teacher had assigned students to bring their role models to class. (Okay, this was wishful thinking on my part.)

No, perhaps it was to be someone who baked cookies for them.

Or maybe, since I was serving on a local school board, it was to be someone in the public eye or someone who helped schools. Even though my mind raced with possibilities, it really didn’t matter why he wanted me to come with him to school; I was just so pleased that he asked!

As Friday, the day for this event, drew near, I casually asked my son why he had chosen me. My question to him was rather matter-of-fact, no big deal. Well, it was no big deal to him, when he casually answered, “Oh, we’re supposed to bring examples of vertebrate animals, and I thought you’d be a good example.”

A vertebrate animal?!?! Now, isn’t that special? I managed to keep a pleasant look on my face as I assured him I’d be there and that probably no one else would bring the same kind of animal as the one he was bringing to class. Ah, the sacrifices parents make!

But the best was yet to come! On Friday morning, as we readied for school, he said, “Oh, Mom; there’s just one thing. Mrs. Watkins said if the animal was large it had to be in a cage.”

A cage? Did my son think I was going to be put into a cage? I went with him that day, but as this vertebrate animal and her son walked into the classroom, we both indeed walked. I was not in a cage.

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(During this busy time of year, I am reposting some of my favorites from time to time.)

Baring It All: This is a Serious Post

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You can’t tell it from the picture, but this is a serious post.


Marriage isn’t easy. It’s hard work.

Second or subsequent marriages are even harder, especially since they usually involve combining families and possibly even adding to those families.

Certainly over the last several decades there have been thousands of books, magazine and newspaper articles, radio and TV interviews, blog posts and conferences about how to help young children adjust to step-parents, step-siblings and such.

Where, though, are the helpful hints about subsequent marriages when all of the children are grown adults?

Even in those cases, adjustments, acceptance and harmony take a lot of effort.

The Duppster and I are tying the knot three weeks from today, and acceptance from among various family members hasn’t been what  you'd call universal.

That’s why I’m writing to “bare it all.”

Between the two of us, there are seven grown children, none of whom live with us in our respective homes. They are in Ohio, Virginia, District of Columbia, North Carolina and South Carolina. Obviously, we are not combining families with everyone living under the same roof. And, not that I really need to say this, but here goes anyway: Dupp and I are NOT planning to add to the family!

We are both over 55, reasonably sane, and somewhat responsible. Even at our ages, we are delighted to have the approval of both of our moms.

It’s our children – not all of them – who are giving us the hardest time. There have been all kinds of questions and comments: Don’t you think you’re moving too fast? How well do you know each other? Why do you want to get married?

There was also a question about why they had received such short notice, which we answered by explaining that we tried very hard to tell as many of them as possible in person, face to face. That’s not easy when people are so spread out geographically.

One question specifically for me was “Can’t you just be alone for a while?” Well, yes, I can. I’ve been alone for a while – and some of that time was even while I was married (which can be the most alone time of all)! Besides, I wasn’t looking for someone to marry. Nor was The Duppster. We both thought we preferred to be alone but, then when we met, we both decided we wanted to be married to each other.

I’ve always tried to be very supportive of each of my children, their relationships, their pursuits, their activities. I’ve been supportive even when I haven’t agreed totally with their decisions.

Is it too much to ask for that same kind of support in return?

Have I made some mistakes in the past? Most definitely, but I certainly hope that I have learned from those mistakes.

One thing I know is that I love my children and my children love me. I believe the same is true for Dupp and his children. No one is going to come between that parent/child love.

Yet, as one or two of the grown children have questioned us, Dupp and I have not once considered postponing our marriage or making any changes. Quite the contrary, the expressed concern, controversy and questions have drawn us even closer together and made our relationship stronger.

What we want, however, is for our grown children to share in our joy and to support us. How do we explain that at our ages, it doesn’t take as long to decide whether a person is the “right one” or that, by our ages, people have learned what’s important and what to overlook?

Any advice?


Note: After writing most of the above, I learned that The Duppster's oldest daughter has posted extremely nice and warm comments on her Facebook page; she openly welcomed me to the family. That means a lot!

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Bugs and Wishes

You know, sometimes education just gets in the way of figurin’ things out and in working out problems.


In many circles, “working things out” gets called something else – like mediation, negotiation, arbitration or conflict resolution. These terms are often used in law, social work, education, real estate, human resources, counseling, religion or other fields.

I’ve taken courses in negotiation, mediation and conflict resolution. I’m even “certified” in International Commercial Arbitration.

But there are some elementary students who make the process a whole lot easier. They use a method called “a bug and a wish.” It’s a simple procedure but it takes a bit of explaining.

Do you remember being in elementary school and telling the teacher that somebody hit you, or that someone pulled your pigtails, or that a classmate laughed at you, or that someone looked at your paper?

Now, there’s a new way to handle these squabbles, as well as others. It’s a practice being used in places by the youngest of students.

If a classmate pulls a child’s hair, the child has the opportunity to announce “a bug and a wish.” The child may say, “It really bugs me when somebody pulls my hair. I wish this would stop because it makes my head hurt and it embarrasses me.”

Or how about this scenario: “It bugs me when we play ‘Red Rover’ at recess because I never get picked until last. I wish that someone would pick me before the end so that I will be happy and feel better about playing.”

The students are introduced to the bug-and-wish practice at the beginning of the school year. All realize that there is an invisible safety net around them as they mention their bugs and wishes. Children are allowed to express themselves, to reveal what hurts them or angers them and to ask for help in stopping the hurtful behaviors.

The reports are that bugs and wishes are working wonders in the classrooms.

I tend to believe this practice might work in families, in the workplace, in churches and in all kinds of situations involving conflicts.

No, I doubt bugs and wishes will end wars but they certainly might help in daily personal relationship battles and in workplace conflicts.

It’s certainly worth a try, don’t you think?



 
 
 
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WW: Why This Child May Not Get Into the School Preferred by His Parents

There's a good reason this child might not get into the school preferred by his parents.

This is a true story of a young mother I know. I won't tell you her name but suffice it to say that she is the mother of my only grandchild.

It seems that these parents were trying really hard to get their son into a little school at a nearby church; this desirable school has a very long waiting list.

The headmistress/director and this "young mother" were communicating by e-mail. The mother was told that the school will not accept anyone who is not potty-trained and was asked when the child would be 2 years old.

The young mother replied that his birthday is March 19th and that she was hoping he'd be potty-trained by then, but, she wrote, she certainly wished there were a camp to send him to for potty-training because she didn't know how in the world to tackle it.

At least that's what she meant to write. She sent the e-mail, then checked back to be sure she had included the birth date.

Oh, yes, she had, but here is what she had actually written instead of what she intended to say:
"I wish there were a camp to send him to for potty-training because I don't know how to tickle tits."

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Wordless Wednesday participants are here.

Wordful Wednesday participants are here.

This Must Have Been an Embarrassed Mom

Art Linkletter was right when he proclaimed, “Kids day the darndest things.”

They really do. And some of the best examples surely come from children’s sermons in various churches. How members of the clergy keep from laughing is beyond me!

One incident took place several years ago in a large South Carolina church. It just so happened that this congregation’s services were broadcast live. (Wouldn’t you know it?)

When the minister sat down in the chancel area and called all of the children forward for their special time together, i.e. the children’s sermon, one little girl bouncingly walked forward, dressed in an extremely fancy and frilly dress. She plopped down right next to the minister.

While waiting for other children to come forward, the minister smiled at the little girl and remarked, “What a pretty dress you have on.”

And with the whole congregation listening and all of the broadcast audience tuned in as well, the little girl beamed up at the minister and said into the microphone, “I know, but my momma said it’s a b---- to iron!”

There was no report on how long it took to get the mother up off the floor.



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Great Minds Think Alike - Perhaps Unfortunately

When I’ve gone out to Denver to babysit my grandson, I’ve enjoyed driving daughter Mandy’s car because it has one of those great gadgets known as a GPS.

Mandy had hers programmed so that it told me verbally and showed me on a map how to get to the nearest grocery store, to the post office, to the airport and various other places. I felt like a child with a new toy!

I decided that one day I would splurge and get one for myself.

A few weeks ago, there was a one-day “gold box” deal on amazon.com with an almost half-price sale on a particular GPS – while quantities lasted. Ah, this was my day. I clicked and ordered one. After all, who can ever find something like that for half-price, even after Christmas?

Besides the great deal, this one had a wide screen, something my old eyes could actually see!

Bear in mind, though, that, while I like gadgets, I am not technologically inclined. I was able to use the GPS but didn’t know everything about programming it. So, I e-mailed Mandy, told her I gotten one but would need her help when they were in town for Christmas. This was her response:

“Well, I don't want to help you. I want to punch you in the face. We all went in together to get you a nice GPS for Christmas. I hope you like it, because now you are going to have two!”

She later e-mailed again, saying she didn’t really want to punch me in the face, although I knew she did. She and the others (Tiffany, Tree and Adam) were disappointed – and I was heart-broken that I had ruined their wonderful surprise.

I offered to return mine, but she said later they had come up with an alternative.

And that’s how it came to be that this grandma is now the owner of an iPod nano.

What I’ve figured out thus far is fun!

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WW: Reindeer in the House!

(This is a repeat post from last year; it still fits because I'm doing the same thing now that I was at this time last year, and the year before, and the year before that, etc.)

There are reindeer in my house.
Sort of.

Years ago, my children – like most children, I imagine – would look for hidden presents before Christmas. It was never very easy to hide gifts.

I believe that when a child found a gift with his or her name on it, that child would shake the gift or maybe even peek under the wrapping paper in hopes of finding out what might be in the box. The "evidence" led me to believe there had been what one might call "tampering."

So, I simply quit hiding the gifts. Instead, I put the names of various reindeer on packages. (As daughter Mandy pointed out, this was not an original idea; a long-ago neighbor did the same.) Each year, it became a game to figure out which reindeer was which person. Usually, each child was two reindeer.

This has become one of our family traditions. It just wouldn’t seem right to have gifts with the real names instead of reindeer names.

Now, the children are grown – ranging from 27 to 34 – and the family has grown to include a son-in-law and a grandchild.

The three children are living in three different states, but their gifts are ready with reindeer names, awaiting their arrival home for Christmas.

Since there are more people, I’ve added Frosty and a few other names, although I haven’t yet had to use Scrooge or the Grinch, thank goodness.

Of course, there’s been another change: I’ve gotten older as well, so the biggest problem now has to do with remembering which person is which reindeer and keeping up with where I’ve hidden THAT list!

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Other Wordless Wednesday participants are HERE.
Other Wordful Wednesday participants are HERE.

It's About Sex

I don’t write about sex very often. Maybe it’s because I don’t know very much!

But I just read that October is National Family Sexuality Month, an effort to promote open communication within families about sexuality.

Well, this reminded me a particular day many years ago. I’ve written about it before, so if you’ve already read it, just bear with me.

It was a Saturday afternoon and I was at home with the three children, all of whom were quite young at the time.

According to the newspaper’s TV schedule, a show was coming on late that afternoon about teaching children how to say “no” to strangers.

Excellent, I thought. As a mother of youngsters, I wanted them to stay away from strangers and not to be tempted ever by candy or any other enticement. Without being pushy, I had us all in the room with the television when the program began. And so, we sat down and casually tuned in to watch the show.

After a few minutes of discussion about saying “no” to strangers, the conversation changed somewhat. It went from saying “no” to strangers to just saying “no” in general. And then, finally, the program’s focus turned to relationships between teenagers and beyond. The talk was about saying “no” to “doing it.” Should a person wait for love? True love? Commitment? Marriage? What? When was the right time?

As one might imagine, the children were engrossed in the discussion. Then all of a sudden, Tiffany blurted out, “I’m confused!”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because,” she replied, “they’re talking about when to do it and I don’t even know what it is!”

Keep watching, honey, just keep watching.

And there you have it - our celebration of National Family Sexuality Month!

PH: Surprise!!!!

Surprise is the theme for this week's Photo Hunt. Life is full of 'em!!!!

Several years ago, the folks at Fort Monmouth, New Jersey, were surprised to have the tallest soldier and the shortest soldier to ever go through MOS training there at the same time. The short one is Tiffany, one of my daughters.



I was surprised when part of my eBay purchase arrived like this!

I was surprised when I forgot that I was boiling eggs on the stove!

Grandson Harrison is surprised about something!

Sometimes people are surprised to learn how one of my brothers, Shawn, teaches children to water-ski. He pulls them on the ground first, behind him running!




This is Shawn's daughter, Kendall. Can't tell if she is laughing at the joy of skiing or at how tired her dad is getting while doing the running & pulling!

My dad took the easy way out years ago, but folks were just as surprised to learn that he pulled us on skis behind a car!!

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Photo Hunt participants are throughout blogland. Click here to see other surprises this week!

Humpty Dumpty and The Wall

Yesterday on Facebook, I wrote: I've never really figured out why Humpty Dumpty sat on that wall in the first place.

That prompted all kinds of comments, which led to a little bit of research – and a whole lot of information.


I had always heard that the nursery rhyme was posed as a riddle, and that “an egg” was the answer.

Perhaps that is the case, but nothing in the rhyme says Humpty Dumpty was an egg, although that is the picture usually used.

According to zelo.com, England’s East Anglia Tourist Board provided this interpretation:

Humpty Dumpty was a powerful cannon during the English Civil War (1642-49). It was mounted on top of the St Mary's at the Wall Church in Colchester defending the city against siege in the summer of 1648. (Although Colchester was a Parliamentarian stronghold, it had been captured by the Royalists and they held it for 11 weeks.) The church tower was hit by the enemy and the top of the tower was blown off, sending "Humpty" tumbling to the ground. Naturally the King's men tried to mend him but in vain….The "men" would have been infantry, and "horses" the cavalry troops.

On-line source Wikipedia shares another verse which precedes the familiar nursery rhyme we know today:

In Sixteen Hundred and Forty-Eight
When England suffered the pains of state
The Roundheads lay siege to Colchester town
Where the king's men still fought for the crown
There One-Eyed Thompson stood on the wall
A gunner of deadliest aim of all
From St. Mary's Tower his cannon he fired
Humpty-Dumpty was its name
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall...


Yet, Wikipedia reports that the above verse wasn’t written until 1956 by Professor David Daube “as a spoof for the Oxford Magazine.”

The much-revered Oxford English Dictionary’s definitions of Humpty Dumpty include these two: the name of an ale-and-brandy drink of the late 17th century; a short clumsy person of either sex.


Whatever the origin, the first printed version of the nursery rhyme showed up in 1810, but it was a little different from today’s version, according to straightdope.com:

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall,
Threescore men and threescore more
Cannot place Humpty Dumpty as he was before.



I still don't know why Humpty Dumpty got up on that wall in the first place!



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(Tomorrow: Jack and Jill)

Have You Seen Elvis???

Sunday will be the anniversary of Elvis' death.

And that reminded me of an incident from the past.

Years ago, after the ex and I split up, I was bedless for a while. He got the bedroom set because his parents had given it to us.

I could do without a bed but not without a refrigerator, for example. I slept on a pallet on the floor, and this actually helped my back. (I’ve had two back surgeries.)

This was fine, no real problems.
Until one night.
My son, Tree, came to the bedroom and asked, “Mom, have you seen Elvis?”

What had he just asked me? Did he really say Elvis???
“Tree, Elvis has been dead for years!”

Somewhat frantic, he said, “No, Mom, I’m talking about Jon’s Elvis.”
I had absolutely no idea what or who he was in such a dither about. I knew who Jon was; I thought I knew who Elvis was – with an emphasis on “was.”

As it turns out, Tree was babysitting Jon’s pet hamster while Jon and his family were vacationing. Elvis was the hamster and he had gotten out of his cage and out of Tree’s grasp as well.

There was a critter loose in our house and I had been sleeping on the floor! That isn’t the kind of thing that gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. Fuzzy? Well, maybe so. Warm? No way!

After that, I slept on the sofa. To this day, I’m convinced that the children kept other critters in the house from time to time without my knowledge and, thank goodness, without incident.




Flickr photo by violinsoldier.

Don't Ever Tell Him What It Means!

It's precocious Christopher again.

He's in pre-school, almost a kindergartner. This week his mom (my sister) got the following note from school:

Hey there,
I am cooking this week while Hazel is on vacation and have been told that Christopher is a vegetarian. Is this absolute or should I give him a hamburger rather than a boiled egg or cheese?
Thanks.

After reading this, I e-mailed my sister to ask when Christopher became a vegetarian. Here is her response:

He is a self-proclaimed vegetarian, which he obviously did not get from his highly carnivorous parents.

I have no idea what led him to decide that he’s a vegetarian; I never even said the word to him. I guess that’s what happens when you attend a multi-cultural preschool, which Trinity tends to be.

Please do not ever mention to him that chicken nuggets and hot dogs are meat!

There's Even Some Humor in Autism Testing!

To label my nephew Christopher as precocious is an understatement. He’s also quite funny.

First, though, a bit of background:

His older brother, Ryan, who is 8, is autistic. Ryan is routinely evaluated at Kennedy Krieger Institute in Baltimore. So are his siblings, Christopher and Jonathan.

The most recent evaluation for all three was a few weeks ago.

Christopher was in a room with the person doing the testing, while his parents and others watched from outside the room.

Christopher, just barely 5, opened the session himself by announcing, "I'm five; I know everything." Then he added, “I don't have to be here; I don't have autism; it's my brother that has autism. I'm only up here for y'all to find out how smart I am."

Of course, they continued with the testing anyway.

One question asked was, “What is an eyelash?”
Christopher answered, “I know what it is but I don’t know anything to tell you about it.”

Then he was asked what a cow is. The answer was supposed to be something simple like “an

animal” or perhaps “an animal that says ‘Moo.’”
Christopher answered that a cow is “a provider of milk.”

Christopher used to stay with me every weekend. I was disappointed that he continued to depend on his pacifier for bedtime and naps at the age of 2.

So, one weekend, we “accidentally lost” the pacifier. He had to sleep that night without it. He pitched a fit, but finally went to sleep and slept through the night.

The next day, I told him I had talked to his momma and bragged on him, telling her that Christopher was such a big boy now because he could do without his pacifier.

Without missing a beat, Christopher said, “Well, my momma didn’t understand what you were saying!”

WW: There Really IS a Story Behind This

Yes, it's an old picture and the quality is not so good. The story behind it is somewhat embarrassing:

I do not sew!

Alterations shops are lifesavers to me.Well, maybe this isn’t a big deal to those of you who are seamstresses, but, unfortunately, I am not in that group. I do not sew.

At all.

In case of emergency, I have been known to use Scotch tape to repair a hemline. Otherwise, I rely on safety pins for emergency situations.

So, years ago, when Tiffany, my older daughter, was in kindergarten, I was less than thrilled when she said to me one Thursday night, “Oh, Mom, I forgot. I need a costume for the play tomorrow. I’m a lamb.”

Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Target and such places don’t stock lamb costumes on a regular basis. Nor does anyone else. It was time to be creative.

I went to the closest drugstore and bought several bags of cotton balls. If I remember correctly, there were 300 - 360 in a bag.

Then, back at home, I got a pair of my daughter’s white tights and an old white, long-sleeved blouse. I proceeded to glue cotton balls all over the tights and blouse. Certainly, covered head to toe in cotton balls, she would look like a soft lamb on the following day.

Well, the glue didn’t dry.

Panicked, I decided to put the cotton ball-covered shirt and tights in the dryer to dry the glue.

It worked! Both were totally dry when I took them out of the dryer.

Of course, they were more than dry. Do you know what happens to glued items when they dry like that? They were absolutely stiff!!!!!

The cotton-ball laden tights could stand up without a body inside them! The blouse had arms (sleeves) that stretched out by themselves.

I had to lift up my kindergarten daughter and then place her into the stiffened tights and blouse. It was a perfect fit!

She was adorable and so sweet. Of course, she couldn’t bend her legs or her arms as she moved about on stage. She was molded into the costume.

Funny thing: she’s not smiling on any of the pictures from that day!



- copyright 2008 - Sherry Shealy Martschink
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