Happy Easter!!

Oliver

The next few posts are some shots from our weekend. From a field trip to the Balmy Alley murals in San Francisco to a wacky school fundraiser, it was a very full weekend.

Dress-up Time

Vintage 20s

The theme for Dahin's school's fundraiser was the 'Roaring '20s'. After finding tacky flapper costumes at vintage and thrift stores, I almost gave up on dressing according to theme. But then, as luck would have it, a parent from her school posted an ad for an 80 year-old dress that she would sell and donate the funds to the school. I could not resist, so bought it and, let me tell you, it is AWESOME! Not perfect--a few little holes, tears, and a stain or two--but the defects are hardly noticeable. Add three aviation cocktails to the mix and I was totally flapper-liscious! A highlight of the evening was winning a $400.00 package of fun in SF--including 5 ferry tickets and tickets to the Ripley's museum. Anyone ready for a visit so I can use these things? Well, thought you'd enjoy shots of the sparkly dress. Oh, and notice the orbs floating around in the photos? I found these spots in several of the photos taken that night. A speck of dust, or a visit from beyond the grave? Maybe there's something to the dress, or (more likely) maybe I watch WAY too much Discovery Channel....

Balmy Alley, Mission District, San Francisco

Oh, the Critics!

OK--now for a narcissistic post....I got my hair cut the other day and decided to go totally Betty Page. The choice was between either growing my short front layers out or going even shorter for a full fringe. I decided on the latter. I like it, but it's stressing Oliver out. This morning, he came into my room and said, "Why you do dat to yuh hair?" (ok--r's are pronounced as w's; sorry for the sloppy transliteration). I said, "Because mommy got mommy's hair cut." He then looked down and shook his little head and said, "It'll gwow. Ok, it'll gwow out...." And he repeated it as he walked out the door. I asked him, "Don't you like mommy's hair?" To which he adamently replied, "No!"

Billie's got the Blues

For school today, Dahin and her classmates dressed up as the historical figures they studied for their Harlem Renaissance projects. Dahin and two other girls dressed as Billie Holiday (note the flower in the hair; quite the required accessory). The kids were super excited and super cute. Kids showed up in fedoras and suspenders as Langston Hughes, sparkly dresses as Billie Holiday, and with instruments in hand as either Duke Ellington or Louis Armstrong, etc. One boy dressed up as Bessie Smith. Kids leveled massive amounts of grief at him in the classroom, but he really did not seem to mind. He wore his sister's skirt and cloche hat with dignity and did a great job talking about Bessie Smith later during their table presentations. There were plenty of girls dressed as male figures, so I thought it was refreshing to see the boy in a skirt. The kids sat at tables with their project reports and props displayed and answered questions about the lives of their figures as if they were the figures themselves.

Preparing for the project took some work both on my part and Dahin's part. The teacher sent home a bio of Holiday and she hinted strongly that parents should probably read the bio with their children and explain (ahem! edit) some parts. I ended up editing out a lot. I made the decision not to explain about Billie's time in reform school, her stint as a prostitute, or her abusive 'husbands'. Instead, I chose to focus on her gifts as an artist and her contributions to the world of music in Harlem and beyond. Well, let me tell you; all that careful editing went out the window today. Dahin shared her table with another "Billie" who happened to know ALL the details; I mean all. It started with a parent asking about the flower in her hair. The other child (let's call her "Billie 2") explained that, because Billie burned her hair while ironing it, she wore a gardenia in her hair to cover it up. She continued to wear flowers because she liked the way it looked. That was ok, pretty mundane. But then all hell broke lose when the parent said, "Billie Holiday had a pretty hard life, huh?" to which Billie 2 responded, "Yeah, she got locked up. And, when she was in reform school, she was in a room with a dead body." At that point, my gaze panned to Dahin who, eyes wide, said, "I didn't know that." "Uh-huh, and she took lots of drugs and alcohol and died because of it," said Billie 2 to which Dahin responded (again), "I didn't know that." "Yeah, and to make money, she was a prostitute before she knew she could sing." The other parent and I were silent while Dahin said, "Wow--I didn't know any of this." The parent next to me said, "Something can be said for having a hard life but still making beautiful art." One thing for sure, tonight, I have a lot of explaining to do.

Read All Day

Dahin's school hosted "Read All Day" today. The kids could go to school in their pajamas, bring a lovey, and bring books to trade. Dahin took three books to school today and brought two for a friend to trade, coming back with four books. The rules were, you could pick out four books to take home. Dahin chose to get three books for herself and one for her brothers. The book she chose for them is this big old book, A Treasury of Children's Literature. She could have chosen four books for herself but, instead, thought of her brothers. So sweet! You know, on those days when I am so frustrated and tired of the kids bickering and whining, I need to remember times like this. It is so wonderfully evident that Dahin loves her brothers.

Spring Day

It was a gorgeous spring day today in Berkeley. The kids enjoyed picking fruit and hanging out in the warm sun. The oranges don't taste the best right now, but it's the process rather than the product they care about. Right now, they're obsessed with picking lemons and making lemonade, which they have plenty of opportunities to do considering the plethora of lemons dropping from trees. And, oh yes, the clothes just magically disappear when the weather is warm. It appears to be an inherited trait, although I don't know where they got that one...