When in Rome, adorn your children with giant hair bows

by CountryFriedMama on December 5, 2009

There’s only so long a person can live in a foreign land before it starts to feel not-so-foreign.  Our third anniversary in the deep, deep, DEEP South is approaching, and the natives are wearing me down on a few things.

1. Monogramming: Belly is starting “school” and Miss D. has dragged her lunchbox through the mud a few too many times, so I’ve been lunchbox shopping,   Two years ago, the only monogramming I did on a lunchbox involved a Sharpie and my best effort at bubble letters.  This time around, though, I was distraught when Pottery Barn Kids told me Belly’s name was too long for monogramming on their lunchboxes.  I seriously considered assigning her an actual nickname solely because of this issue — a Facebook friend suggested “Sissy,” a local favorite.  Luckily, I found someone nearby who could squeeze all nine letters onto a pink, gingham sack.  Crisis averted.

2.  Complete intolerance for “winter weather”: We moved here from a place where climbing on one’s car in order to shovel it out of a snow drift was not terribly unusual.  This morning, there was a quarter inch of snow on the ground.  I declined to go outside until it melted.

3. “Y’all” usage: Why this handy contraction is not used around the country is beyond me.  It is much more convenient than “all of you” and infinitely more attractive than “you’s guys” (no offense, New Jersey).  I still feel self-conscious saying “y’all” aloud, but it has worked its way into my e-mails, tweets and Facebook updates.

4. Giant bows for little heads: In the 15 minutes it took us to drive to the mall today, Belly removed her shoes and socks, spilled the milk in her “spill-proof cup” all over herself, and — I’m pretty sure — ate her barrette.  No more little hairclips for us.  Never again will I make fun of women who buy bows bigger than their kids’ heads.  At least those little girls won’t be pooping hair accessories.

5. Unhealthy obedience to the advice of Southern Living: I walked into a nursery last week with a torn page from the magazine so someone could help me create the exact same planter I had found in the December issue.  I fear the staff over there is still laughing at me.

6. My current Facebook status update is “ROLL TIDE”: Country-Fried Daddy took Miss D. to see the women’s basketball team from his alma mater play a nearby college this afternoon.  Belly and I had the house to ourselves all day, and I chose to watch the SEC football championship game.  I asked Belly if she could believe we were choosing to watch football.  She threw her hands in the air and yelled, “Tide!”

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{ 2 trackbacks }

10 signs I’m not in Alabama anymore | Country-Fried Mama
August 3, 2011 at 8:48 pm
This is the way we go to school | Country-Fried Mama
September 8, 2011 at 8:19 pm

{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }

maryleigh December 5, 2009 at 10:18 pm

What a hilarious post – and, as a southern girl myself, I can say you hit the nail on the head! We lived a little farther south than our hometowns for over a decade and were appalled to discover that if a snowflake appear 1 hour away, school was cancelled. Of course, like you, the appallment morphed into deep satisfaction of not having to get the kids up for school in the morning! You pinned it about Southern Living, “Ya’ll” (No Red TIde Here though) – but what really got me laughing was the milk-spilling, barratte pooping experience – Now, I have boys -we do not do hair bows (though people do around here) – however, they jump in the car, pull off their shoes and socks, and, yes, spill whatever food they tend to be handling. I guess that part is not gender-contingent!

Your post gave me a laugh on a day where I dropped everything! Thanks!


Bubbe December 6, 2009 at 10:40 am

What’s worse than you and Belly watching the SEC championship, is that your mother and Mel watched it too! (from up North) But ,I ,really felt bad for the guy who cried


Mel December 6, 2009 at 10:55 am

Way to go Miss Belly! Good to see you are following in your sister’s footsteps. BTW CFM, hope you are not downplaying that “other” Alabama school over GW.


December 7, 2009 at 3:03 pm

It’s amazing how a place wears you down so slowly. I’m hitting the “winter” in the desert as my dad laughs and calls me a California Girl. Take it back, old man; take it back.


Jane December 8, 2009 at 1:08 pm

I love this post! And I can soooooo relate! But I’ve lived here 25 years and my daughter (age 17 – and the south is all she’s known) says it still sounds weird when I say “y’all.” I must not be doing it right!


Twitter: Goodgirlgonered
December 8, 2009 at 1:18 pm

I love it. Absolutely 100% LOVE it. I won’t be going the giant bow route, though. My daughter still doesn’t have quite enough hair. ;)


VoodooMama December 15, 2009 at 9:04 am

These things do happen…. As a California girl transplanted to upstate New York 15 (gasp) years ago, I was both appalled and kind of amused recently to find myself actually admiring some of the sweaters on a Facebook page dedicated to the Greenwich Village “Ugly Christmas Sweater Pub Crawl”.


Twitter: followthelines
December 19, 2009 at 10:37 am

I love it! I’m currently trying to bring the “bow” up here. We’re failing so I guess I should go bigger. This occurred to me the other night at the Christmas program when I couldn’t pick out her head. I’d purposely put our biggest and most obnoxiously pink bow basically on her forehead.

Y’all. I don’t know what it is, but I try to avoid it. Maybe it’s the stigma that I’m supposed to say it, so I don’t just to throw people off, hell I don’t know. I know I correct myself all the time when it does slip out.


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