Towels and Socks

**I'll be back with What I Wore when I get my desktop from the repair shop.**

Until then...by latest brain dump:

The other week, I was in a conversation with 2 other women.  And per my peri-menapausal self, I have no idea who they were.  But I do remember the conversation.  Of course my recollection could be all wrong.  But well, I'm getting a blog post out of it anyway!

One woman was young and was soon to be married.  She relayed that her fiance was very helpful with housework and that they had done laundry together.  She, with a light but nevertheless conspiratorial tone, explained how he did not know how to fold towels.  She contended that a towel should be folded in half then again in half, but then it needed to be folded in THIRDS. 
"I KNOoooow, right?!!"  
The two women giggled at the helplessness and hopelessness of men.  Never mind that I don't fold mine in thirds because a) I'm lazy that way and b) they wouldn't fit in my linen closet. 

Surely you have, or you have heard other women roll their eyes when the dad dresses the children and it's not to the woman's liking.  You know, the sox may not match.  Or GOD FORBID, he put the wrong pink leggings on the girl.  I suppose we women pride ourselves on these trivial matters.  We also judge each other for them.  And hence, we might feel self-counscious, that the mismatched socks would be a reflection on our womanhood.

We women can be so quick to joke about men and their ineptitude about household matters.  We may not mean to be mean, but in the end, the constant, little undercutting is, well, mean.  I wanted to tell this young woman, that this eye-rolling at the trivialities of life is but just the first foundation stone laid for their marriage.  That she won't like the way he does the dishes.  Or dry them.  She won't like the shirt he put on for the party.  Or his favorite chair.  She won't like the socks he put on their child.
She might start relaying these stories.  At the party.  Or correct him in front of others.  Little harmless put downs.
Then she'll fight with him because he won't help around the house.

What I Wore Wednesday 2.15.12

Really.  Honestly.  I have several serious posts I'm working on.  Just not coming together.  I hope my clothes came together better!  So.  Fashion isn't that serious.  Really.  So why do I do so much about fashion?  Read this.

Want to see what makes me smile?  This!

I have been looking and looking and looking for the perfect purse.  A perfect purse for me goes like this:

1. Has to go over my shoulders.  None of this Queen Elizabeth over the elbow thing.
2. Leather.
3. Simple, structured, stylish but classic.  Not flopsy mopsy bangly.
4. Separate interior compartments in addition to the little side pockets.
5. Can't be more than my food budget.

And here, in the Tignanello Perfect 10 Studded Shopper, I have found it!  As a bonus, I love that thethe buckles and details are the same on both sides.  If you wonder how I'll make an orange purse go with all my outfits, well let me tell you.  I will just SUFFER through it!  I do believe I did it yesterday, for my son's Valentine's day party at school:

Look!  I'm doing that "look down as if my husband isn't taking a picture of me for the internet!"

Black Willi Smith drape cardigan over a magenta Ann Taylor satin ribbon trimmed t-shirt.  Vintage black jeans by Gloria Vanderbilt that I converted to skinny jeans, pewter ballet flats by Me Too, somewhat like these.

I'm loving the hematite/ dark gray tones of jewelry: bracelet from Talbot's, necklaces from (top to bottom) Silpada, Boscov's and Greece (the country.)

That's all I got forya!  Check out The Pleated Poppy, who posts what she wore in INDIA!  (I know!!)  and the other What I Wore Wednesday posts.

Did You Notice That Big Cross?

I've been reading a few articles about this Health & Human Services mandate requiring the coverage of birth control and abortions, as a matter of a woman's health and well-being, they say, even if it is against the beliefs of the employers, the Catholics, let's say.  I know there are many aspects - too many to count - to this discussion, but it made me think back to something in my life from a few years ago.

When Boo was 2, I looked around for a preschool for him.  I write "for him," but really, it was for me.  Almost any mother will remember those days of toddlerhood when your child needed every nano second of your attention, every ounce of your strength and squeezed every drop of your patience.  So I did my usual careful research, and with pen and chart in hand, I trudged from place to place.

I first went to the YWCA, wanting diversity most of all for him.  (Of course, safety was the most important.)  I made an appointment, full of hope for a better, more peaceful world.  It was located in a part of town with a large black and Hispanic population, many of them poor, in this part of town.  I saw the manifestations of their mission, to help parents who lacked good parenting skills - that is, children who "needed guidance," shall we say.  I decided against that culture for my son.  It broke my little liberal heart, but when push came to shove, my child came first.

I then went to the Jewish synagogue, looking for diversity of a different kind.  I expected and looked forward to little Boo learning about shabat and bitter herbs and the oil that lasted and lasted.  I knew he would not be learning about Easter.  In the end, I think it was some mundane issue like their schedule that lead me to move down my roster.

I went to a protestant church school that had a good reputation, supposedly the place to go for upper-crust townians.  It saddened me somewhat to consider the notion of his being surrounded by what I assumed would be white middle-class teachers and white middle-class kids.  There would be the blond moms in their mini-vans and Land Rovers, little kids wearing Gymboree with matching ribbons.  It was a nice building with plenty of parking, an adjacent fenced-in play ground, good adult-child ratios.  Well, I thought, what he misses in diversity, he'll gain in Christian education.

I asked the petite Caucasian director about the curriculum.  Don't get me wrong, we're talking about 2-year olds and I was not expecting a treatise on the End Times.  What she said, though, shocked me. 

"We don't teach religion here because we have families from all over and we don't want to offend them."  

Let me clarify that this is a program run by the church, not simply a nursery school that rents space.

When I went to the Synagogue, did I not think that there might be some Jewish traditions and beliefs presented?  Did I not realize when I went to the Y in that part of town, that the children would represent the neighborhood?  When I went to Penn, we had classes canceled for Jewish holidays but not on Good Friday. 

So I ask, did the people coming to this church school miss the big steeple with the cross on top?  Did they notice the big stain glass with the descending dove?  or the big sign that said the protestant denominational affiliation?  Should they be offended if the children do sheep and cross crafts and learn John 3:16?  So when ya go work for a Catholic institution, a hospital, let's say, didja miss the big statue of  a woman wearing flowing robes, or the bleeding man on a cross?  Have ya heard of the Catholic church? That they don't look kindly on birth control pills, abortion or divorce?

Alright.  Did you make that leap with me?  Were you holding my hand?  or did I let go somewhere in my writing?

"What I Wore" Wednesday Carnival - 02.08.12

If you haven't figured it out yet, this is not about what we wore on Wednesday, but what we wore this week and sharing it on a Wednesday.  Got it?  Okay!

I wore this Zara Collection brown empire-wasit tunic over a lime tank.  I wore it with olive leggings and brown suede boots by Style & Co.  I threw on this fun bangly-fangly scarf the color of a new penny.  Bright gold accessories.  I can't remember what day it was or where I was going! Oooh, I could have used a bracelet or two!

I have always loved the rust, russet and saddle range of colors.  I've been wearing outfits that will go with these two vintage pieces: Liz Claiborne leather saddle bag and Joan&David suede oxfords.

Here are two I wore to run errands - grocery, bank, going to Boo's school.  Green half-zip fleece by Sahalie, which btw, I LOVE.  LOVE.  Extremely modestly priced, soft and wears well! Worn over a GAP layering tee.  Brown straight-leg pants by Ralph Lauren CHAPS.

Same pants but this time with a chunky wool sweater by Club Room...I know, it's a man's sweater.  Worn with a new fringed scarf:

Hey look!  I even match my house!

Here's a close-up of the scarf, though the colors aren't quite right.  There's no actual rust on there - it's various weaves of red and pale olive green.  There's no brown either - black along with weaves of black and the pale olive that make it look brown:

Last but not least, I wore this outfit to the opening of the Pediatric unit at the local hospital.  Talbot's animal print skirt from a long time ago, topped with a brown knit top. "Chanel red" leather satchel by Nicole Miller, gold jewelry from all different places.

Check out other WIWWs at The Pleated Poppy!

The Silence of Love

I walk through silence
present and dense
descending dove
blanket me

There is no agony
by unmet desires
for You give me peace.

I hold my love's hand and he
tugs gently, blindly
Two shall become One.
the bed dips as I slip away

The bed dips as I sit
I hold my son's hand
stirred out of the depths he
tugs gently, blindly
my hand up to his mouth.
Kiss

Rising another step
to the Silence
Mom, why are you here?
To check on you, my sweet.
Thanks, mom.

There is no agony
by unmet desires
for You give me peace.