Dress Code

So, about 10 years ahead of schedule, I had my first incident of Carson trying to sneak out of the house wearing an outfit SHE wanted under an outfit she knew I'd find acceptable. I really thought this was a middle school thing, but I'm thinking that a lot about Carson's choices lately, and I'm no longer sure that early childhood and adolescence are all that different as far as stages go.

Carson was playing dress-up yesterday morning, which is fantastic. She hasn't always loved the dress-up scene, and she only occasionally chooses girly dress-up outfits. Yesterday, she chose this:




Which was great, until we were ready to go run errands. I told her she couldn't wear her getup to the store, even though it was fabulous and glamorous and amazing.
She fought it a little, but eventually sighed her way to her room, presumably to change.
She returned looking like regular Carson...and then she walked past me, and I noticed a little sparkly, purple fluff hanging out from beneath her striped dress. At first, I thought the tutu had gotten caught up in her pants as she was changing. Upon further inspection, I realized she had repositioned it under her clothes so that SHE knew it was there but I wouldn't.

For a brief, fleeting moment, I was frustrated that she had tried to pull one over on me, after I had instructed her to remove the crazy (albeit hilarious) outfit.

And then my heart ached, because I felt like I had stifled her creativity and sense of identity and made a 3-year-old feel like she had to hide her wardrobe from me.

I quickly skimmed through the lessons I could use this teachable moment for:

1. when Mommy tells you to do something, you do it. Now remove the tutu and get ready to go.

2. Mommy sees everything. Even when you try to hide something from her, she will always find out. Now remove the tutu and get ready to go.

3. Never be afraid to be yourself--or to really speak up if something is important to you. If you're going to wear a purple tutu, you better rock it. Now put that tutu on the outside of your clothes where everyone can see it and get ready to go. And also, next time use your words instead of sneaking.

I chose #3, and we both felt pretty good about it. And next time we have a wardrobe "discussion", I will be more open-minded.

You know, I have a friend from work whose multi-racial teenage son once commented, "Man, white people let their kids wear ANYTHING! You never see young Hispanic or black kids wearing crazy outfits in public."

And maybe that teenager was right. Maybe it is a cultural thing. I often think of his comment when I allow Carson to wear a tutu or shorts with rain boots and a winter hat. And I chuckle and hope that maybe some teenager in the aisles of Target will see my kiddo and make a similar comment to his parent and they'll both get a good laugh about it.

I mean, if we can't laugh and wear a purple tutu, then what can we do?

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Things I Never Want to Forget About My Kids

1. the feeling of Carson's three-year-old fingers playing with my hair while I lay with her after bedtime prayers

2. Declan's 'flirty eyes' -- they're sure to cause him/me trouble someday, but they melt my heart

3. the way Carson turns EVERYTHING into a song--and always has a song playing in her head

4. Declan's belly laugh, which he gives freely and often.  I especially want to remember the 'anticipatory belly laugh' that bubbles out when he is waiting to be tickled but has not actually been touched yet.

And a few things I wouldn't mind being sacrificed to the black hole of my diminishing memory......
1. the sounds of 'sleep training' or whatever you want to call it when your kid learns to put themselves to sleep
2. tantrums of any kind, including my own
3. that soggy feeling that comes from being slightly damp with spit up, drool, snot, and various mushed-up foods all day

On second thought, I will miss all of these things too one day--when Declan can do more than just cry when he's mad (for example, curse at/about me) , when Carson can get in her car and drive away instead of plopping on the floor in a puddle, and when my kids no longer need me to wipe their noses and mush up their food--I will miss these feelings and these moments too.

Okay, it can all stay.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad