Static Cling

by doodaddy on December 26, 2008

I’ll get scant sympathy from those of you digging out from the usual winter (or celebrating a melted Christmas, below the equator), but we’ve had a week of heavy rain here in San Francisco.

Surplus indoor time means discovering new games and also new uses for our long, unruly hair, often all at once:

20081222-014

Van der Graffin’ Hell

Boo, as you know, has a lot of hair, and no interest in cutting it. The weird thing about that isn’t that she has strong opinions (what almost-three-year old doesn’t?) but that she has a strong opinion about her grooming — a rarity, it would seem, amongst her friends, who mostly don’t seem to care much.

Thus: no haircuts for us.

Clothing is a la Boobaby, as well:

20081204-001

Just before she went to the rave

I’ve done an informal survey, and most of our friends are still at the “offer two outfits, pick one” stage of child dressing — a stage Boo blew past a year ago.

Then again, most of them (like *cough* Emmeline, the world’s best-dressed toddler) have lucked into parents with some fashion sense. Not so the case for Boo — in my closet resides nothing but fleece vests and jeans, and for her part, my wife is always well-dressed but pretty monochromatic. (Black is the new black.) No great surprise, then, that our daughter would want to pick her own clothes.

No surprise, either, that her sartorial supervision has extended to her collection of dolls, swollen by Christmas gluttony to six or seven. Last night before bed, we painstakingly dressed four of them before I insisted that bedtime had arrived, though even then Boo conned me into forcing a pair of her footie pajamas onto her three-foot stuffed Elmo.

Underlying all this, of course, is my utter amazement that a bug-loving tough girl with a stay-at-home dad would go the clothes-and-dolls route at all. Boo was supposed to be so busy tossing toy cars off the roof that she’d eschew girlish things like fashion and conversation.

Remind me never to expect anything. Or to get used to being wrong.

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tagged as in behavior,Blueberry,clothing,hair,raising a girl ·

{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

Veronica December 28, 2008 at 12:37 am

Oh god, not the rain! We have been see-sawing between cold and rainy and too hot to play outside. I think Amy is ready to go insane. Add Christmas sugar to that and I’m ready to go insane.

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Nan December 28, 2008 at 6:38 am

*Sigh* Dolls. Clothes. I covet your daughter. We got weapons for Christmas.

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doodaddy December 29, 2008 at 10:24 am

@Veronica – I’d take your too hot anyday, and raise you a gingerbread cookie!

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doodaddy December 29, 2008 at 10:25 am

@Nan – Yeah, we had two boys over to visit last night and I know what you mean. At least the worst we have to fear is Barbie. And Teen Cosmo.

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Veronica December 29, 2008 at 2:02 pm

@doodaddy – Oooh, gingerbread! Can I have 2?

The too hot would be okay, if Tasmania wasn’t directly under the hole in the Ozone. It takes about 5 minutes in the sun to get burnt to a crisp and about 30 minutes if you remember the sunscreen and hat. Although, it’s pouring with rain again today.

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