That is the score of the great clothes debate. Otherwise known as the “morning meltdown”.
I buy my kids nice clothes. I can’t help it. I have this obsession with Gymboree and most of their clothes come from there. I wear the same 5 outfits every week, and I have absolutely no “style”. And that is fine with me because my kids look cute, and no one is looking at me anyway.
Rylie wants to pick her clothes out by herself every day. She has been like this for like a year now. When we aren’t going anywhere, I let her have free rein over the clothes picking decision. But on school days and when we go out on the weekend, I pick her clothes.
At least I used to.
I have been trying for like three weeks to get her to wear this outfit.
Cute, right? And it is comfortable. I know better than to buy her dresses or anything that might have elastic anywhere but the waist, because she won’t wear it. So I buy her comfy shorts outfits. And now she won’t even wear those. Whenever I try to get that outfit on her she pitches a fit like I’m trying to get her to wear a dress made of barbed wire. And I think now she knows that I really want her to wear it, so that just fuels her fire.
I give up! I refuse to fight with her every day on what she is going to wear to school. I pick out a cute outfit and she pitches a fit because she wants to wear something old, stained or too small. And poor Brian is usually the one dealing with it because he gets her ready for school most mornings. So whatever. She can pick her clothes out from now on. And she can go to school looking like this if she wants…
That was the outfit she picked out on Christmas day. We didn’t go anywhere so that is what she wore. A pajama top, denim shorts and some crazy giraffe socks her grandma bought her. Hilarious.
And on days that she actually matches, she is usually wearing old stuff from last summer. You might remember a post about this favorite outfit…
Yes, she is still wearing that. Sure, it is cute, but she has newer and cuter clothes than that.
So Rylie wins. I have to pick my battles with her, and this is one that I am not willing to fight any longer. I still have my sweet baby Bryce who will let me put whatever I want on him…at least for now. I’ll probably have to copy and paste this post for him in another year.
Aren’t independent toddlers fun?
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