I have a son who has no respect for the simple rules of fashion. While I have always prided myself on being an open-minded individual with a willingness to accept new ideas and embrace all people regardless of race, culture, etc, I have proven a failure when it comes to accepting and embracing what my child chooses to wear each day. My 3-year old will often ask, "Mom, does this match?" but I swear if my 2-year old catches wind that what he has chosen to wear somehow follows any norm of pattern or color, he will go change. He will not let me near his clothes drawers. Any suggestions from me are gruffly thrown to the dogs with a simple but stern, "No mom! I can do it." While I really do applaud that this child has learned to dress himself, I am finding it hard to simply let him wear whatever he wants. Let me explain myself...
Regardless of whatever clothing he may choose for the day, the outfit always begins with a pair of Santa Christmas socks and a pair of blue rubber rain boots. These boots have been worn with leisure outfits, Sunday clothes, and even pajamas. No outfit is too sacred not to be worn with "the boots". I have tried to insist that he not wear them to bed but there have been many nights when I have gone in late to check on him and found those boots snuggled deep under his blanket. They are most irritating when they kick my back repeatedly or stomp on my body as he crosses over me in MY bed to get to his favorite spot curled up next to dad. Ah, those cursed boots.
He also loves his pair of red sweat pants with the blue stripe down the leg and the "horse" shirt that is now too small for him. I shake my fists at the heavens every time he pulls on the plaids with the stripes or the Halloween monster shirt with the Christmas pajama bottoms. Many a mother or well-meaning person has counseled me to just let it go and focus on celebrating his independence. I've tried...it doesn't work. I just can't celebrate reds and purples in the same outfit. Call me shallow, call me ignorant of the greater purposes in life, call me what you will but tell me how many people who wore rain boots and horse shirts have made it through life without serious psychological scars?! I have started carrying a matching outfit piece with me wherever we go in hopes of having an "accident" with either a top or bottom that will allow me to put the matching garment on him and have peace with his outfit. For those of you that know me, I'm not winning any awards with my fashion statements. Carrie Ann tries to keep me in line when I've gone too many days in outfits made entirely out of fleece or "leisure suits" that need a washing (I'm terrible with pantyhose and purse etiquette too) but at least my leisure fleece suits MATCH! Tonight he wore his dinosaur pajama top and doggy pajama bottoms to bed. I am absolutely certain that if I were to check on him right now he would also be wearing Santa socks and rubber rain boots. And I haven't even mentioned the Superman cape and broken knight's helmet...
Despite the torment I feel inside every time I see him in the red plaid Sunday shirt with the blue plaid summer shorts, he is still a constant source of wonder and joy. The other morning I found him watching the garbage truck out the big front window in black Sunday socks pulled to his knees, the rubber rain boots and his pajama dog top. His eyes were dancing with joy, his hair was glistening in the morning sunlight streaming through the window, and his darling white dimpled diaperless butt put a smile on my face and a memory in my head that won't soon be forgotten. I'll try to remember that there may come a day when he comes to visit me in his dapper matching Gap outfit and I'll mourn the loss of his youthful fashion ignorance.
Meanwhile, I have high hopes that Carrie Ann's blog on shoe etiquette will be a turning point in losing the rain boots for him.
