We have officially moved past the age of little baby hangers. All of Little Miss Sunshine’s clothes were falling off the smaller size, and I had to go out and buy a couple dozen regular sized hangers to put in her closet.
I’ve been ferreting out the little hangers ever since, bundling them up into sets of 10 to sell at the local baby-stuff consignment shop. They keep turning up, just when I think I’ve got them all, and I’m sure one day I’ll come across one in the back of some closet when they’ve all moved out and I’ll burst into tears. But for now I’m pretty happy to say good riddance to something else that’s cluttering up my over-burdened household.
In other news, our oldest two children have landed their first jobs! They are working as Teaching Assistants at the ski hill we go to. It’s a paid position – they are making something like $30 per Saturday, plus they ski for free. It’s a long, hard day – they are on the hill from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., sometimes getting an hour for lunch but sometimes only getting a few 15 minute breaks. And it’s only for eight Saturdays during the season. But it’s a job, and I’m so pleased with them for actually getting out there and doing it (with some prodding, of course).
The jobs meant we had to open bank accounts for them. We’d opened one for our oldest when he was born, and then found out years later that most of the “welcome baby!” money we’d deposited there was gone, because the account had gone dormant and the bank had been taking out $30 a month for dormancy fees, and I’m sure it is no surprise to you that we are NO LONGER WITH THAT BANK. So up until now the kids had just been keeping their birthday/Christmas money in a drawer at home, but now they are all legit with the bank cards and all.
The best part was the signatures. All three of them (we got an account for the Little Miss, too) can barely write in cursive and laboured over writing their name like they were in kindergarten. Now that cursive is no longer taught in school, are we looking at a bad signature epidemic? I suppose it’s only a year or two before we’re all identifying ourselves with microchips embedded in our fingers anyway, so whatever.
Anyway, so far the jobs are going well – they are exhausted at the end of the day, but I am surprised at how much they both seem to actually enjoy working with and chatting with the little kids, especially compared to how short-tempered and mocking they are with their own younger sister. And we are worried that this will kill their love of skiing, because they are basically spending this whole season skiing backwards down the bunny hill, instead of fun stuff.
But they both do seem to appreciate money flowing in to their bank accounts, so that’s good.
Lastly, we have entered the realm of braces. Our middle child, Gal Smiley, got braces back in December and it’s been a very new thing for us.
I hope the braces result in a happy ending, but right now I am constantly questioning whether or not we have done the right thing. I know she thinks I kind of forced her into it. The thing is, I have some serious hang-ups about teeth and I know my own issues pushed her to get the braces.
My own teeth are crooked and large, and I always wanted braces as a kid. I even begged my mom to take me for a consultation. But she just did not have the money to pay for it – she was a single mom with four kids, and there were higher priorities. My bite is passable, and there weren’t any health reasons to require braces, it would have been a cosmetic thing. So the answer was no.
I think everyone has one thing about their physical appearance that they just don’t like. Maybe it’s knock knees or the way your hair frizzes out and cannot be tamed or the way your nose is a little bit off centre. It’s the kind of thing that your friends rush to tell you “oh, it’s nothing! I don’t even notice it!” but YOU do, and it bothers YOU, so it’s a thing. For me, it’s always been my teeth.
So I marched my two oldest kids in to the orthodontist as soon as they (finally) lost all their baby teeth, and while the Captain was given a pass (his teeth are not bad, and he REALLY did not want braces), the orthodontist and I agreed that Gal Smiley would benefit from having some crooked teeth fixed, and her bite adjusted.
She wasn’t sure, but I pushed, and now here we are. She is having some pain, and is sometimes unable to eat, and doesn’t like to smile with them, and I really, really hope I have done the right thing. I’m super nervous about the permanent retainer that this will result in – how will she floss? – and if we have damaged her, socially, in some way.
She’ll have to have them on for another two years. I’ll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, braces advice welcome!