A rocking horse is one of the essential staples of the traditional American nursery. But what if you don’t have the traditional American nursery? If you’ve taken the time to pick out the perfect Oeuf dresser and Svan table and chairs, those little ponies with the synthetic manes just may not cut it in the junior bedroom.Read More
Month: February 2007
I’m a minimalist when it comes to dressing babies: No jewelry, no fancy hats, and no booties. My girls didn’t wear shoes until they could walk, and I still grin at the professional portraits we have of them with bare toes peeking out from underneath their dresses.
My toddler’s going through that self-awareness phase right now. She loves to preen in front of the bathroom mirror and make silly faces at her reflection windows. Not surprisingly, Rosie’s new MeMovies are the greatest thing to hit our household since the swaddling blanket.
Considering how far the career possibilities for women have come even since we were kids, it blows my mind that it’s still hard to find art depicting girls much beyond princesses, ballerinas, and the ocassional generic animal lover. (Veterinarian? Or just crazy cat lady in the making?)
It seems like overnight, our refrigerator became a full-on child’s art gallery. And while I love checking out my daughter’s masterpieces every time I go for a snack, that old fridge door just doesn’t do her creations any justice.
Once upon a time, a doll featuring huge eyes, long lashes and skimpy skirts wouldn’t call to mind tasteless mass produced slut dolls that enrage millions of moms; but rather hip 60s-era fashion icons.
It has come to my attention that I have a bit of a bag addiction. And now Jane Raymond of Style Sister Studio enters my life and complicates matters further, since her amazing bags are the kinds that make you say, "oh just one more."
I’m not the type of person who avoids walking under ladders or reschedules meetings because my horoscope tells me to. But I admit that when I heard that babies born this year, according to Chinese astrology, would be the very blessed and rare Golden Pigs – I gave my pregnant belly a little rub and smiled from ear to ear.
I’m all for calling a spade a spade. Or the parts of the body by their proper names. And I’m convinced that the longer you delay the naming of certain organs, the harder it gets to talk about them with your kids.