The Queen's Rambles

I need to stop shopping on Zulilly (a clearance kid’s site). Yes, some of their things are fabulous steals (especially Crocs and some other trusted brands). But then you’ve got the clothes that photograph really well, but once you hold them in your hand you want to puke.

I bought this bright turquoise tunic with zebra stripe ruffling on the hems and a desi flair. I like turquoise. I like zebra stripe ruffling. I like desi flair.

I do not like cheap ass zebra striped satin old lady feeling nighty material poorly attached to some nasty, see through polyester. Ugh.

Just looking at this tunic gives me the creeps. I would probably hyperventilate if I actually saw Elsa wearing it.

Ummmm. Yes. I am a little weird and overreact to children’s clothing choices sometimes.

I’m so mad, because it had so much promise! And Zulilly has no returns, so I’m out the cash. Bah. I guess that site is all about risks and I lost this one. Usually I win.

So now what to do with this awful shirt? I was thinking of selling it on eBay, but surely I would get a negative review when the buyer opened the package and realized it was a disgustingly cheap polyester monstrosity. I don’t think I can type up an ad that is truthful without saying something like “get this thing out of my house before I burn it!” And then who would want to buy it?

Mike suggested I give it to the neighbor. That’s probably the best solution, but how do I explain giving her a perfectly good shirt that Elsa could wear?

Now I know you are thinking “The shirt is so awful you won’t sell it on eBay, but you’ll give it to the neighbor? What the hell?”

This is my Pakistani neighbor. I think this shirt must be more Pakistani than Indian. My Indian friends and neighbors wear absolutely beautiful, flawless clothing. My Pakistani friends and neighbors wear clothing that is just “off” to American eyes. It is almost the same as the Indian clothing, but not quite. It can be beautiful, but most of the time it makes me wince. They really like to use that horrid satin, old lady nightie fabric. They mix fabrics that shouldn’t be mixed (to American sensibilities). They like shiny. The colors are always off, to my sensitive eyes.

My neighbor sews a lot of the clothing she and her girls wear and unfortunately she’s not a good seamstress. Not that I could do better. Sewing shiny satin material is incredibly difficult.

And yes I know I sound like a judgmental bitch. But something about those mis-matched, ugly ass clothes on sweet little girls hurts my little tiny fashion loving heart. Some days I have to draw the curtains when they are out playing because I can’t stand to see the gold lamé pants with the pale yellow easter dress. I know, I know. I would never say anything. But. . . gold lamé pants. I don’t understand!

Oh dear. Elsa is awake and screaming. I am not allowed to look at her or touch her, but maybe I’ll put some food in her doggie bowl and leave it under the table for her. I’m a great mom, that way.

I’ve had a really great week, even if it has been hectic. I can’t believe just one week ago I was hosting a million people in my house, making thousands of copies, worrying about newsletters and attending trainings. That seems like it happened years ago.

Today’s a holiday, then it will start all over again.

I am just so, so pleased that Erik loves his new teacher. I didn’t want to be a big bother, but I couldn’t help myself. I sent her a brief e-mail telling her that she’ll have Erik eating out of her hands if she will give him an occasional math problem. Instead of writing back a bunch of goobeldy-gook about how she loves teaching and loves children and loves teaching children and NO NOT GONNA HAPPEN, she wrote back a lovely little reply “Thanks, I’ll try it!” And she did and Erik is in love with her.

NOT SO HARD, EVIL KINDY TEACHER.

Erik was in tears when he came home from school on Friday. Mama Bear was ready to go cut a thug, but it turns out the problem was that there was no school on Monday. He loves school. Can you believe the difference a teacher makes? All my nerves were for nothing. If this continues we are going to have a great year. Please, dear Mrs. First Grade Teacher, let this continue.

I almost have Erik’s Man in the Yellow Hat costume assembled. He was not totally pleased with the hat, but decided it would work. It’s a beach bucket hat and I’ll put a black band around it.

A hat this shape is not easy to come by.

The only thing left is the pants. Yellow pants are not all that popular, though they seem to be making a comeback as tight lady’s denim jeans. I can either pay a butt load of money for used Spanish pants on e-bay, buy a hundred at wholesale prices from a sweat shop in China and become the master yellow pants lady on e-bay or die some white pants yellow. Guess what option I’m going with?

I did find some super cute training pants with PUL in the crotch from the Chinese sweatshops. I seriously considered buying a lot and selling them off just so Elsa could have cupcakes on her butt. Then I google searched cupcake training pants and bought a pair from an e-bayer. Might have been more expensive per pair, but now I don’t have a truck load of crazy in my living room.

Also, it is bad to buy from Chinese sweatshops. I know this. I feel guilty.

I also feel guilty because we’ve given up our reel mower (one of those old fashioned push mowers that cuts the lawn with man power instead of gas or electric power) and bought a gas mower. We tried. We really, really tried. But our grass is just too thick and weedy. If you don’t mow at least twice a week the grass gets too thick and the reel mower won’t cut worth a damn.

There are three townhouses in our row of eight that never mow their lawn. One is next to us so we cut their lawn. The other two are at the other end. Now that we have this super splendid mower I might sneak down there and mow their lawn. Maybe I’ll mow all the lawns! I hate weedy, trashing looking yards. This mower is a “recycling” mower, so it chops things up super finely and leaves it as mulch. You can even mulch up to five inches of leaves. Sounds better than raking to me!

And now I am off to get the hermit crabs out of their tank. Maybe we can set them up in the lawn mower box, then I won’t have to keep such good track of them.