Sunday, November 21, 2010

Mary Janes and Plaid Skirts

I had visions of what my children would be like.  Then I had one.  But I still had visions of what they would wear and play with.  I envisioned them playing with and adoring the kinds of toys I wished for and didn’t have!  Well, not my boys.  I didn’t really care about what kinds of toys they had, except weapons.  My boys wouldn’t have guns or swords or anything violent.  Can you tell that I bought into the entire nurture side of the nurture v. nature debate?  The weapons-ban lasted until I noticed my three year-old making a gun out of legos and sticks.  At which point I promptly gave up.

But the girls, the girls were going to have American Girl dolls and giant incredibly cool doll houses to play with.  And I would, um help them decorate the doll house and have tea parties with them and they would dress up and everything would be wonderful (but not pink because pink clashes with my hair – I’ve always had issues with pink).

But children are who they are and you have to respect that.  The first clue I had that Bri would not wear what I wanted her to wear was when she was two.  My mom had saved some of my clothes (circa 1972) and Bri insisted on wearing a yellow, red and blue gathered peasant dress three times a week.  She wore it basically every time it was clean.  And in elementary school she loved bejeweled pants.  I’d go to the store, spot a stripe of cubic zirconiums glued down the side of a pair of jeans and think “Oh, that’s hideous!  Bri will love it!”  I’d buy the pants for her and it never failed … she loved them!

I pinned my hopes on Elizabeth.  She was a brunette just like my mom.  I gave her a bob because I love bobs on little girls with dark brown hair.  My friends gave me adorable clothes for her and I bought more.  Then when Lizzy was one she started insisting on dressing herself.  Do you know how long it takes for a one year-old to dress herself?  Well, I’ll just put it this way -- you have time to read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy.  I quickly learned not to help because then she undressed and restarted the process.  It was a painful year.  And add insult to injury her hair started to lighten.

When Elizabeth was two she got particular about clothes.  She refused to wear knit pants or leggings (She still does) and she started insisting on belt loops and pockets.  If she didn’t like something she refused to wear it. Elizabeth is who she is and will wear what she wants to wear; which usually is a pair of jeans, a huge tee-shirt, a fleece and a pair of masculine sneakers.  On Sunday she wears a pink eyelet skirt with a blue butterfly sparkly tee-shirt, a sweater, pink, white and red striped knee high socks and black Mary Janes.  She’s been wearing the same thing for about nine months now.  I’m sure people think she doesn’t own another dress.  Come to think of it – that’s actually true now  . . . because I gave everything else away!

I’m now pinning my plaid hopes on my future grandchildren.

1 comment:

Shari said...

Too, too funny. I count myself lucky that none of my kids turned out to be one of those "have to pick my own outfit and wear it every day I can get away with it" kids. Although the youngest is only 21 months, so I guess I can't count her completely out yet.

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