Say Yes to the Dress

My four-year-old daughter will only wear dresses. She has dozens of them: long-sleeved winter ones we pair with thick tights; comfortable, everyday cotton ones; light, flouncy sundresses; fancy, poofy, special-occasion ones. Most are hand-me-downs and the rest were bought at inexpensive stores. Luckily, we haven't had to take out a loan to fund her little dress obsession. Yet.

I've noticed the other girls in her preschool class wearing dresses pretty often. It must be the age. I vaguely remember my niece going through a "dresses only" phase when she was little (which morphed into an "anything but dresses" phase).

So I'm pretty sure this too shall pass. And it's not like it's a big deal. It's only clothes, after all. Except that there are times when a fancy frock isn't exactly practical. Take the other day for instance. It was a rare day when we had nothing to do, so my little lady and I decided to hit DD first, then visit a local playground. Here is what she opted to wear:

What would you call that dress? It's like a pinafore, right? She chose a pinafore and strappy, pink, jelly sandals with zero cushioning or traction. Not at all suited for playing in the dirtbox sandbox or climbing rope ladders. Did it slow her down? No. Did she regret her outfit choice? No.

I, however, enviously eyed the other little girls wearing sensible leggings, cargo pants, and sneakers. They looked so comfortable and didn't have to worry about stepping on the front of their dresses while climbing or getting wood chips stuck in their open-toed sandals.

I also don't like it that my sweetie-pie seems to measure her self-worth by how pretty her dress is. I remember one day not too long ago, I somehow managed to convince her to wear leggings. I think it was cold and rainy out and a dress just didn't make sense. The outfit was plenty pink and girly so I thought it would pass muster, but about halfway through the day, my daughter started crying for seemingly no reason.

"What's the matter, baby?" I asked.

"I don't look pretty," she whimpered.

"What? You always look pretty. There's no way you can't look pretty--you are a beautiful girl."

"But my clothes don't look pretty!" she wailed.

So up we went to her room and changed into an appropriately frou-frou dress, and the day was salvaged.

Another time, there was a birthday party at a kids gym. Again, it was coldish outside and because much climbing and tumbling would be occurring, I convinced my darling to wear leggings. Well, we got to the party only to discover that all the other little girls were wearing dresses. I watched her watching them. Her eyes darkened and she looked down at her outfit. I could see her little brain working to process it all.

My daughter at 18 mo. She's wearing leggings, T-shirt,
a brown sweatshirt. She let me dress her until age
two. This outfit would be unacceptable now. 

But she was a trooper. She didn't even mention it. She just she sucked it up and had fun anyway. But you can be sure that when she went to another party at that same venue a month later, she wore a very pretty dress.

I get that my daughter wants to look pretty--that's normal enough. But I do worry that she's taking it a bit too seriously. I don't want her confidence and self-worth to come from how she perceives herself to look.

I'm really hoping this is just a phase, too, and that as she matures, she'll understand that beauty is so much more. Of course we tell her all the time that she's smart, kind, and funny. We make sure to explain that a person can only be truly beautiful if he or she is kind-hearted and good. (Yes, Snow White is pretty, I explain, but what truly makes her beautiful is how nice, caring, and gentle she is to all those she meets.) 

I just hope it's sinking in.

I Couldn't Possibly Have Been This Annoying as a Child, Could I Have?

My son's elementary school is only K through Grade 2. I love that the school is specially geared to meet the needs of this young and impressionable age group, and also that he doesn't have to sit on the bus with rambunctious, huge (to him) fifth graders.

When the kids enter school they are five, and by the time they leave most have turned eight. Three years--no big deal, right? I didn't think so, but then the other day it was brought to my attention just how much older kids are at eight than they are at five.

Last Thursday the Kindergarteners didn't have school because it was orientation for next year's batch of K-ers, but it was a normal day for first- and second-graders. It was finally decent out after a few days of rain and gloom so we headed to the elementary school playground just as school was letting out.

We had the playground to ourselves for a few minutes, but before long the after-school club (kids whose parents work) joined us.

"Where are the Kindergarteners?" one girl asked.

"They didn't have school today. Isn't it soooo much better without them here?" answered a wise-ass boy (to whom I immediately gave the stink eye).

The boys broke off to play football with one of the apathetic high school kids who only do the job because their parents force them to supervisors, while a group of second-grade girls came over to the fire-engine structure where my kids were playing.

The girls climbed to the top, leaned against the bars in a tightly packed group, and began to sing as loudly as possible:

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else,

                            The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed,

But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell,

You don't know, 

Oh oh,

You don't know you're beautiful,

If only you saw what I can see,

You'll understand why I want you so desperately,

Right now I'm looking at you and I can't believe,

You don't know,

Oh oh,

You don't know you're beautiful,

Oh oh,

That's what makes you beautiful

I was unfamiliar with the song, though I figured it might be a new tune by Katy Perry or Kelly Clarkson (though it didn't sound slutty enough to be Katy or angry enough to be Kelly). It was vapid and frothy and catchy...one of those new British boy bands, perhaps? So, yeah, I Googled it when I got home. It's "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction, for those of you who don't happen to live with a female between the ages of 8 and 18 and therefore have remained blissfully ignorant.

The adorable faces and Bieber-esque
hair of One Direction

Over and over and over and over they screamed sang those words. Never any other part of the song--just those lines. It was super annoying.

The supervisor stopped the football game. He came over and hollered, "Girls! Enough! Sing something else...anything else! PLEASE!" (Ha, not so apathetic now, are you dude?)

Did it work? Of course not. The howling-passing-for-singing continued.

The girls reminded me of myself when I was young, except in those days we sang "Da-Do-Ron-Ron" or tunes from Grease. And that wasn't until fourth or fifth grade. I didn't have any mad crushes on pop stars until I was at least ten.

But nowadays the girls start earlier. Call me crazy but eight just seems way too young to be singing love songs and giggling about boys. 

Now I know what to look forward to when my own Little Lady turns eight. Someone please help me. 

What to Do When Dr. Jekyll Jr. Becomes a Mini Mr. Hyde?

My son used to be the sweetest little boy you could ever meet. Oh, sure, lots of mothers say that, but it wasn't just me who thought so. Over the years, many people have complimented me on how compassionate, kind, even-tempered, and intelligent my son is. "Such a sweet boy!" is something I've heard often.

And then he started Kindergarten. Or maybe it's that he turned six. Not sure what the cause of his behavior change is, but it happened right around then. He has become demanding, short-tempered, and petulant. Oh, not all the time--no, of course not. Our sweet little boy is still in there but unfortunately, we don't see him quite as much as we used to.

Our son, during one of his
less-than-stellar moments

The transition to full-day Kindergarten has been tiring for him. The school bus gobbles my son up at 7:50 a.m. and spits him back out at 3:15 p.m. That is a long day for a six-year-old. But every other Kindergartener is dealing with this same schedule and I doubt all of them have undergone such personality changes. I'm sure the long days have something to do with the behavior changes, though. Our son absolutely adored preschool--he went three days a week and was usually bummed when it wasn't a school day. He loved the activities, teachers, and other kids. He was friends with everyone.

Well, he still loves his teachers and friends, and he enjoys school activities. But now every single morning goes something like this:

"It is a school day today?"

"Yes."

"Awwwwwww!!!! How many more days until the weekend?" (Imagine this uttered in the whiniest voice possible.)

Thankfully, all his bad behavior has (for now, at least) been restricted to when he's home. His school record is still blemish free; in fact, he's one of the only boys in his class whose status has never gone from Green ("Good") to Yellow ("Warning"). During parent/teacher conferences, his teacher raves about him--she literally has never said a less-than-glowing thing about him.

Which is why, when he gets home and rants and raves and orders me around, I'm dumbfounded. What the hell happened to the sweetest boy there ever was?

If this is a temporary thing, then fine, we can ride it out. I understand that kids go through phases and that each kid has his/her own way of dealing with change and stress.

But what if it's not temporary? If it continues, do we punish him for his outbursts? Right now, I'm reluctant to do so because he's in so much pain as it is in those moments, I hate to add to it. But on the other hand, we don't want him thinking he has free reign to be tyrannical whenever he feels like it.

If any of my faithful readers have experience with this, I'd love her hear how the situation panned out for you.

Because we are at a loss.