dresses

So a factor in the "lies that culture tells girls" involves (obviously) the way girls dress.

A few years ago, as the girls started to get BIG, Chris and I had to have conversations about what that should look like. His bottom line, "We need to dress them now the way we want them to dress when they're teenagers." In other words, no short skirts just because they're little. Nothing revealing, or risque (yeah, I'm appalled that they have risque, revealing clothes for little bitties, but it's just true).

So in the search and movement toward beautiful, modest clothing for our little girls that doesn't look too....uhrm...homeschoolerish (for lack of a better term, but I bet you know what I'm talking about), I'm starting to learn to do more on the ol' sewing machine than quilt. Three things help that tremendously: 1) I love fabric. WAY too much (see the SisBoom and Anna Maria Horner line on the left to see what I'm talking about. AMAZING stuff. 2) There is something incredibly satisfying about the creative process of sewing. I didn't think that would happen, but I absolutely LOVE it. 3) Sites like this one that have beautiful patterns for the fabulous aforementioned fabric (her blog is on the left, Olabelhe, btw).

Read the book 5 Conversations You Must Have with Your Daughter * and the author writes about how when clothes were made at home, they fit, and there wasn't an obsession with "What size am I??" How great would it be to grow up and not care what size you are? And to love dressing in clothes that are beautiful, modest and feminine? Excited to start this journey. By the way, I absolutely don't think you have to make clothes at home to help your girls avoid the lies culture tells about clothing - this is just my creative passion, at least today. ;o)

I'll post pics as I finish projects, and as the pumpkins let me take pics.


* I highly recommend this book to all in this search for how to teach our girls about the lies culture feeds us - it's a little wonky at times, but I think the principles the author, Vicki Courtney, presents are vital.

that girl

Today I’m that girl. I didn’t mean to be. I didn’t want to be. But…I am.

Because I invited everyone to my house on Sunday to celebrate my (how is it even possible?) 8 year old Katie, and 3 of them left with the stomach bug that mowed my family down earlier last week. But we were better. And the house had been disinfected. TWICE (at least. That’s not even counting the hundred times I ran Clorox wipes over the light switches, and doorknobs, and appliance handles when we were sick).

So I’m that girl. The one who hands off the horrible stomach bug to the people she loves, because she can’t bear the thought of postponing a party and breaking her 8-year-old’s heart. *sigh* And even when she calls the nurse to see WHAT THE HECK KINDA BUG IS GOING AROUND ANYWAY, DO I NEED TO CALL THE MEN IN THE WHITE SUITS LIKE IN ET?? gets told, “Nah, they couldn’t have gotten it from your house.” Tell that to Nana and Julie and Jenny. (And Mom & Dad, and Jonathan & Judah & Sharifa, and Aaron, cause it’s coming for them, too). Boo.

But maybe…I’m hoping…that the next time I’m not that girl, and someone else is…that I’ll remember today. And I’ll have a heart full of compassion instead of judgment. Because it stinks to be that girl (even when the only voice calling you that girl is your own).

Tons of well-wishes to and prayers for my dear loved ones for a speedy recovery.