Costume Roundup

By golly, the past three months have been so riddled with costumes that you would think our household resembled a Disney parade, a Halloween-themed sitcom, or a highly trained improvisation team with a specialization in historical characters.  Yes, it was a banner few months at the Roberts casa, with the Amazon Prime guys working overtime to facilitate the needs of the costume crack we regularly consume, much to the aggravation of Kate Middleton (the dog, not the princess. Ooooo, brain flash!  Next UPS box might need to be a royal doggie costume!)

The highlights: my husband wore leggings and a kettle suit in front of thousands of people (Tallahassee Democrat said 30,000, but gentle readers, you must err on the side of skepticism when it comes to the Democrat), my son went completely gray, and my daughter swapped candy with Abe Lincoln.

Lest you think I am exaggerating, I present for your viewing pleasure the Costume Roundup of Fall/Winter 2013:

Tom Sawyer Day, early October: We eased into it with a red gingham shirt and braided pigtails.
To quote City Slickers: "Scoop o' chocolate, scoop o' vanilla. Don't waste my time." 

Fall piano recital (don't let the guitar fool you): dress up required for this occasion. 
We went with the free, go-to costume for all red-blooded
American moms with blonde-haired daughters. 

Halloween was just a drop in the bucket.  As mentioned here, M followed the theme du jour: Scarlett O'Hara.

Boys went all-star--Star Wars that is--complete with little Yoda (green Eeyore? Shrek baby?)



And---BOOM---historical worlds collide!  Who knew that Scarlett
was head and shoulders taller than our tallest president?

Turning the corner to November: okay, not my people here, but I DID shop for this rad gladiator ensemble. Veni, vidi, vici!

Reidy's kindergarten class had the cutest pilgrim hats. If he had been my firstborn,
I would have preserved this getup.  As I recollect, it got squashed in the dark recesses of the car.

December, bring on the candy-themed fun.  The whole Roberts gang participated in the Winter Festival Parade in rockin' downtown Tallahassee.  I innocently asked M if she'd be willing to wear a gingerbread outfit.  She pictured facepaint, her sassy MK Shetland boots, and a puffy pen-decorated T-shirt. I deviously pictured Gingerbread Man from Shrek.  (insert wild laugh here).

All night, kids asked to have their picture taken with Ginger.  She hated loved it!

My cute cookie working the local crowd.

Which brings me to the once-in-a-lifetime chance to see Hubs dressed up
as Red Kettle Man (or, as folks in the crowd shouted, "Hey Mr. Cupcake!  Red Guy! Bucket Dude!")

The entire SA gang just before the parade began.  Note that Ginger's little sister (green pants, center) got to wear the very ensemble that Madeleine was denied.  (insert second wild laugh here, this time by AM.)

And introducing our artist-in-residence, Andy Warhol, who created a to-scale masterpiece for the 4th grade exhibit of the (Mini) Metropolitan Museum of Art.  If you want to chat about Pop Art,  50s feminism, or Warhol's raison d'etre, Collin's your guy.



In honor of Charles Dickens, M used her stash to purchase this lovely green-and-red, fur-lined, plaid-accented getup to attend a Victorian Christmas Party.  Perhaps she can save it for next year's Winter Festival and pass Ginger off on her unsuspecting brother?

  

Happy New Year to you all!  Sorry I can't offer any Deep Thoughts in honor of the big day--I'm still fried from all the (mercifully costume-free) Christmas festivities!  2014---here we go!



Making Room

This summer, I began a sewing project in earnest.  This was no small task, for not only was I planning, piecing fabrics, and sewing them through, but I was taking on the more giant task of stitching two colorful and diverse lives closely together, binding them permanently at the seams.

One hot day, we decided that no more were our two girls going to play then spat then separate to two rooms only to fuel up for the next exchange.

Because when these babies were brought into the world, the thought upmost in my mind was that each birth brought me a child to rock and raise but it brought my children something far more: a lifelong friend.  

And when God promised before you were in the womb, I knew you, He also knew well the very hearts He would bring around our dinner table.  You know, God has a way of planning those things.

So setting aside my despair over the girlie arguments and squabbles, my hope is that in sharing a room, they gain an equally great gift to that of a lifelong friend:  the ability to get along with others who are not like them, to live in community with grace and kindness, and to love in the midst of the differences.

I figure the room sharing is a built-in way to help prevent them from living selfish, parallel lives and disconnecting from each other in separate spaces.  It plunges them right into the messy mix of relationship, into the give and take of shared space, into the realm of resolutions and building into each other’s lives. 

So the beds were set up, the clothes moved over, the logistics of leaving a space and occupying another all tended to. The girls searched and shopped and finally settled in on different but coordinating fabrics from a pretty line, Circa by Jennifer Paganelli, inspired by French flea markets.  Stitch.  We put our heads together on what was needed: spreads, Euro pillow, bolster, throw, canopy overhead.  Stitch.  They huddled together and with great excitement picked out a new monogram, just for their rooms—a vintage 1920s font—and chose the thread (blue metallic mixed with hot pink).  Stitch.

Stitch, stitch, stitch, stitch, stitch….the threads of ideas and actions began to bind as I watched them find a way to mediate tastes and blend the differences into something beautiful. 

And as I sat bowed over my machine, my mama heart bowed before their Lord and maker who in His wisdom appointed them for sisterhood for specific and special reasons.  I sewed and prayed for the sisters to grow seamlessly together over this time, in this space created with planning and love, in this one-chance-deal they have to discover the treasures they are to one another and realize that in togetherness their world is a much more vivid and wonderful place.