As I look at my daughter tonight something just doesn’t seem quite right. Her hair? No. Her pajamas? No…wait. What? “Katie, are you wearing two pairs of pajamas”? “Yes”. Hahahahahahaha. The laughter goes on and on. Until she finally calms down enough to inform me that she couldn’t decide which pair of pajamas to wear, so she wore both. Alright then. Moving on. There are just some battles I don’t believe are worth fighting.
You can always spot the kid who dressed themselves. Toques in the summer, shorts in the snow. Other parents smiling and asking “so did little Johnny pick out his clothes today?” Yes, that’s right. That was MY son wearing winter boots and shorts on a hot spring day last week. And he was also the boy in the house coat at the grocery store the other weekend. My daughter went through a stage, when she was two, where she wore her pink rubber boots every day, even though it was sweltering hot all summer. She is now at an age where she will let me match up her clothes as long as she can pick the outfit. But my three-year old son on the other hand, tosses out whatever ensemble I have selected and makes his own head-turning wardrobe choices. As much as I would love to have him dressed up like the “cool little dude” I think he should be, I also appreciate that it’s important to let him make some choices for himself.
So for now I’m just the mom at the playground, watching my son run around in his super-hero costume while passerby point at me and say “thanks for protecting the playground!” “Hun?” I think. Until I remember that I am holding his Captain America shield.
Until I write again…