The realization hit me today that the much-anticipated 150th of South Mountain/Siege and Capture of Harper’s Ferry/Antietam is like, two weeks away. This means I have only two weeks to ensure I have a dress that actually fits and maybe–just maybe–both start and finish my cage crinoline project.
I also need to start mentally preparing myself for the fact The Two Year Old will be accompanying us on our jaunt into Maryland.
Prepping to finish his first novel before Momma finishes hers.
My mother has agreed to watch The Baby. After weighing the pros and cons of who would be the easier child to lug around a reenactment, we decided that, as we are only on day three of The Baby sleeping through the night, The Two Year Old would be more compliant. I have no hope of him being easy or agreeable. He’s two, after all. He has an agenda.
So, I’m trying to figure this out. Chances are I’m not going to be dressing out for the whole weekend because…well, look, I have a hard time picturing myself running at full tilt after him while wearing a hoop skirt and corset. And slippery shoes.
For all of about five minutes, I consulted Google to see what the cost of civil war era kids reenacting clothes runs you these days.
Answer: Too much.
I don’t want to pay the going prices on clothes I’m going to wear, let alone clothes I’m going to have to fight him to put on, have him most likely rip off and prance around in his diaper, and then promptly outgrow three days later. Friends, I’m cheap.
Is there time to throw together an outfit for him too? Do I have the a) energy, b) stamina, and c) time to hand sew trousers and a tiny little shirt for him? No, of course I don’t. Still…it intrigues me.
Cage crinoline. Tiny pants. Cage crinoline. Tiny pants. I just don’t think there’s time for both.
Seriously, there’s nothing like waiting until the last minute.
So, we’ll see how this all unfolds. He’s going through the terrible twos and responds to every question with, “No” and then reminds me, “No whining.” He also rolls his eyes and shakes his head because, honestly, he’s got better things to do. On the other hand, there’s nothing he loves more than running around outside and rolling around in the grass. I’ve promised him an adventure and, although I’m not entirely sure he knows what “adventure” means, he responds with a big hug and a certifiable happy expression of joy.
Yup. It’s going to be interesting.