Dress code

I usually dress the girls in the morning but sometimes himself, my mother or my mother-in-law does it.
When this happens I try to leave complete outfits ready but there are rare times when himself or the grannies have to pick the clothes themselves.

So until my girls are choosing their own clothes the following tips will be duck-taped to the wardrobe door.


Tips for dressing my girls

Choosing an outfit

Dress for the occasion:
Jeans/trousers and top are appropriate when going to the pool, the woods, the playground and generally mucking around.
For visits to friends and grandparents or restaurants a pinafore (like dungarees with a skirt bottom), skirt or nice trousers and top will do.
For special occasions like birthday parties a dress is appropriate (not pyjama top and jeans, mum).

Colours:
Pink, red, orange, purple; pick one and don’t mix it with the others.
White, green, blue, denim can be matched with any of the above.

Pyjamas:
Are for bedtime only.

Tights and socks:
Should match outfit. See colours.

Shoes:
No matter what your daughter/granddaughter tells you, shoes should be worn in matching pairs.

Accessories:
This is crazypixie’s area of expertise. Let her chose hats, bags and bracelets for everyone.

When you’ve chosen an outfit using the above guidelines, lay it out to make sure it all works together (i.e. she won’t look like a little hooker/homeless child/teletubbie).

Before putting it on the child ask yourself, ‘Is this what my wife/daughter/daughter-in-law would dress her in?’


Always check that the clothes fit and are on properly.

The clothes are inside out if:
The tags are on the outside (take note, husband dear)
The stitching is on the outside.

Clothes are too small if:
Pulling it over her head involves you breaking a sweat and her in tears.
The top finishes above her bellybutton.
The trousers reveal a builders bum when she bends over.
The crotch of the tights is at her knees
Only one of four buttons will close.

If in doubt take a photo of proposed outfit and media message it to Jen for approval.

What's in a name?

Crazypixie has a new word she uses when she wants something right now.

To a stranger it may sound like she is shouting ‘Knee!’, but we know that she is shouting himselfs first name. In fact, she is doing a perfect impression of mummy shouting upstairs to daddy to ask him (read tell him) to do something.

He’s still ‘dada’ for cuddles and when she’s missing him but if she wants something from the other side of the room or a door to be opened, it’s ‘Knee!’

Not a very flattering reflection on yours truly………

We’re having a……………..

Girl!

Yes, I saw it with my own eyes. Well, the obstetrician pointed out the relevant bits that apparently resembled a ‘burger bun’ (we’re still debating what he would have called the corresponding male part, ‘hotdog’ maybe?). So we’re going to be mama, dada and the girls.

I’m just beginning to get my head around it. You’ll have to be patient with me today and understand that I have been accused, frequently, of over-thinking things.

I had never pictured myself as the mum of girls. I mean, I’m not exactly your typical girl myself; among my skills I can list currach building, single-handed sailing and the ability (presumably now lost) to knock back copious amount of beer. Now I do like to cook, and I even bake, but up until recently most of my friends would have described me as ‘sporty’ or ‘a tomboy’ or maybe even ‘wild’ (and other less favourable terms I’m sure).

But having a little girl has definitely changed me.

It began when crazypixie was a few days old. I lay in bed nursing her and I just felt so womanly, so connected to the earth (ok, it may have been more of those hormones, but hey, hormones are me too). I had this image of my daughter and I being part of an unbroken umbilical line of women stretching back to the beginning of humanity and before. I felt more in tune with other mothers, even my own, and began to really appreciate the wonder of my own body.

Yet, despite my earth mother moments I was adamant about not gender stereotyping my child. We were definitely buying into the pink princess thing. I bought her clothes in every colour but pink; sensible yet cute tops and trousers. The frilly knickers we got as presents were bundled off to charity shops She had a truck long before she had a dolly, and woo betide anyone who dared to comment on her ‘prettiness’ (‘alertness’, ‘brightness’ or ‘determination’ were all considered acceptable)..

She does take after her mummy in some respects; she loves swimming and being out on her bike and she’s a right strong willed little miss.
But she is teaching me lessons already. Yes, she is definitely her own person. At 13 months old she likes nothing better than to sit in front of a mirror brushing her hair, the cats ‘hair’ and everyone else’s. When visiting friends what toys does she go for first time, every time? Yes, the dolls. And wouldn’t you know it, the colour that best suits her complexion is pink.

So, I’ve chilled and become more philosophical. Friends are commenting that I’ve ‘gone soft’ but I think I’m just a lot happier in my own skin (and boobs).
Some of it has to do with being a mother to any child but the thought of raising a little girl has really encouraged me to look at my whole attitude to femininity and gender in general. My copy of ‘The Female Eunuch’ has long been gathering dust, but Friedan has been a recent bedside companion. At the risk of sounding totally self absorbed, I reckon my quest to understand my own identity as a person and a woman is a lifelong one.

I can only hope that I can keep my own issues in perspective and be the kind of mother that inspires her daughters to embrace their own identities and strengths, respect those of others, and question and work to improve the world they live in.

………………………….

Oh, I almost forgot: what was himselfs reaction to the prospect of having two daughters?
‘Oh my god, all your periods will synchronise and I’ll be in a house full of PMT.’
Ah, the male mind………..