Meet Felicity

Mia has a fetish. Okay, maybe it is more than a fetish. It may be an obsession. With American Girls.

For those without daughters who may not have been exposed, American Girls are a brand of dolls, with accompanying books, clothes (for real girls and dolls), accessories, and even their own camper trailers or treehouses, if you are willing to drop $400 on an abode for your daughter's doll.

Of all the things Mia could love, of all the brands out there, I must say I would rather her be pouring over the American Girl catalog (which she does for hours and days when it arrives -- memorizing every item and its price, planning how she can save all her birthday money for the next couple of years to buy another doll, or maybe just finagle one out of Grandma and Grandpa for Christmas) than be begging for Hannah Montana concert tickets. But, even still, it has gotten a bit out of control.

A couple weeks ago Mia spent hours unable to sleep because she wanted so badly to get one of the new "My American Girl" dolls. Particularly so that she could create an online persona and play on the new American Girl website. Since we were not willing to just order her one that night, and since it took a significant amount of explaining for her to understand that buying the doll was a prerequisite to getting an on-line identity, well, let's just say it was a rough evening.

In addition, she is regularly trying to figure out how soon we can take a trip to New York, not so we can see the Statue of Liberty or go to Central Park. Nope. So we can, again, visit the American Girl Place Store. We did just go in Chicago. But, NY has other features, like a live show, which we have not yet experienced. It is an absolute must for Mia Joy.

In the past she has vacillated a bit on which American Girl is her favorite. [There is a line of "historic dolls," current "dolls of the year," and then the dolls that can be designed to look just like a real, live American girl. ] But, no more. As of the last week, Mia is Felicity -- the colonial era American Girl.

Mia has gotten obsessed with counter identities in the past. She was "Princess Dot" (from a Bug's Life) for about six months, during which she always wore wings and a crown, followed very closely by a summer stint as "Alice" of Wonderland fame (in fact, that summer several of Jeffrey's co-workers actually thought he had a daughter named "Alice" since that is what she had told them her name was). But, now that she is older, it is worse. She has access to a much larger wealth of information.

She has been re-reading all the Felicity books we own (3) every day.

She watches the Felicity movie we own, every day. And then, pauses it to take note of particular styles, mannerisms, and activities that they do.

And, if she is not reading or watching, she is listening to the box set of Felicity audio recordings from the library.

Her name is now Felicity. Maggie's is Nan (Felicity's younger sister). Elsie Jane is Will (Felicity's younger brother William, but since she is a girl, Mia decided that Elsie's full name would actually be "Willow," we will just call her "Will.")

Every day for a week she has worn a dress with all of the six skirts that she owns layered underneath as "petticoats." She admits it is a little hot and itchy, but it is worth the price to have the more authentic colonial experience.

She also wears tall knee high socks as "stockings" with rubber bands around the tops to be "garters."

She is planning our Halloween costumes for this year so we can be a fully functional Colonial family: Felicity's family, the Merrimans. She has lots of requests related to the details of our attire. Including that I knit authentic stockings that do not have elastic at the top and require garters. I said, "No."

She is also trying to find a way to decorate our car so that it looks just like a carriage. I did tell her there was to be NO taping things onto the car.

She has cut off the bottom of the white shirt that goes with our Dorothy costume to create a cravat for Jeffrey's use.

She has secreted playdough in her room for use as sealing wax on the letters she is writing. (I am just relieved that she decided to use playdough rather than my actual sealing wax!)

She has insisted we prepare colonial food. The first request was for "shrewsbury cakes," but we settled on tarts.

She also had to plan a whole colonial, candlelit dinner. With the silver goblets. I convinced her chicken pot pies would be authentic enough.

She convinced Maggie to trade her dolls (an amazing feat since Maggie's Felicity doll is her most prized possession): Rebecca (Mia's doll) and Cocoa (Mia's favorite horse) for Felicity.

She also sewed herself a "muff" to to keep her hands warm, since I guess gloves will no longer be acceptable in winter.

She is practicing pouring her warm milk from a teapot and adding a cube of sugar, cinnamon, and gently stirring in her teacup.

The only saving grace is that we live in Virginia. Which, although we are not in Williamsburg like Felicity, has been close enough to the proper location that Mia has not yet put a For Sale sign in the yard or just decided to move on her own, with or without the family.

I keep hoping that some appropriate colonial manners and obedient behaviors will accompany this obsession, but so far, all I am "supposed" to do is tell Mia, I mean Felicity, that she takes too fast of steps.

Off the Grid: A Series

Part I- June Begins
In the first act of my story I find myself trying to tie up loose ends and prepare for a trip. In addition to washing, packing, weeding, cleaning, stopping mail, and finalizing schedules, I:

--hold a final recital for my dance class,

--arrange flowers for a friend's wedding,

--paint and paint and paint our massive deck,

--capitulate and adopt a dog (yep, Jeffrey and the kids finally wore me down)-- Mikado "Mickey" is a 2 year-old Lhasa-poo from the shelter,

--attend the last few crazy t-ball practices and games where Mia plays and Jeffrey coaches,

--complete the Marine Corps Crossroads 17.75 K race (only 1 minute over my target time!),

--go to church, host a young women meeting at my home, host friends for dinner,
finish up a pillow Mia embroidered for her first grade teacher and cupcakes for her class, and finish packing -- all the day before our departure.

Part II- Fly Away
In this act I board a plane with a massive car seat, five bags (not including all of those we checked), one stroller, and my three children in tow. Seven hours and two flights later, we arrive in Utah. Here we:

--traverse the state (St. George, Bear Lake, Lake Powell, Salt Lake),

--learn skills (dance camp, swimming, and horse back riding for Mia, dance class and trampoline tricks for Maggie, charming -- and pronouncing the names of -- all her aunts and uncles for Elsie Jane, meditation for me),

--watch shows (Tarzan at Touachan, Toy Story III, Shrek IV, True North by the Children's Dance Theater, Kirkmount at the Scottish Festival),

--recreate (bowling, swimming, boating, fountain splashing, hiking, sand castle creating, school shopping, Thanksgiving Point, Red Butte Gardens, Park City),

--eat well (Uncle Bobby's Indian chutneys, Aunt Judy's cooking at Lake Powell, raspberry shakes at Bear Lake, BBQ at Uncle Mike's, homemade granola, and lots of trips to Cafe Rio),

--catch up with old friends (but not enough of them -- Sorry!),

--enjoy being with grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Part III- Re-Entry
In this act I return to Virginia after an even longer and more grueling flight with three children who have gotten enough sleep for only one of the past 35 nights, who were awakened at 5 am, who are hungry, and who have spent the morning crying over having to say goodbye. Now I:

--begin the process of grandparent detox (this is a program wherein my children act out all of their over-exhausted, over-indulged, disoriented, frustrated, sad to leave family, happy to be home, and confused about how to reconcile these emotions feelings on one another and me while I try to be incredibly patient and understanding while simultaneously being the first person to tell them "no" or really enforce a bedtime with them in five weeks. It isn't pretty.),

--unpack suitcases (including two additional, very large, ones we had to borrow to transport all of our new acquisitions home with us. What made me think it was a good idea to buy a quilt when I already had to check four large, very full bags?),

--deep clean the house (toilets don't look so hot after 6 weeks of hot, humid summer),

--decide to put off a regular schedule for a a couple of weeks,

--meet up with old friends who are in town the day we return,

--try to get the kids to bed before 10 pm,

--reacquaint with the dog that I barely know (figure out how to keep him calm, prevent him from dashing out the door and up the street anytime the door is opened, figure out his potty and feeding schedule, and try to teach the kids to remain calm around him),

--go visiting teaching,

--settle a biz-zillion sibling quarrels,

--stock up on groceries (seriously, no crust of bread no glass of milk remained),

--plan play dates,

--go to the water park,

--de-junk and reorganize almost all of my closets and craft supplies,

--weed (most of) my garden beds where the lettuce and weeds were four feet tall,

--scrub out the car,

--do church stuff (attend church, attend mutual, attend baptisms, prepare and teach lessons, host meetings, clean the church),

--take the kids to the pool,

--take the kids to the movie (Ramona and Beezus -- I highly recommend it. So rare to find a clean, well-acted family film we all actually enjoy!),

--have my car die at Costco, and in the driveway, and at church,

--get a new car battery,

--clean up LOTS of goldfish crackers, juice, and crumbs,

--get a new calling at church (Young Women's President).

Part IV- Untitled
In this act I remember again why I am still tired, haven't blogged in two months, and really need a true vacation.