I didn't lose the last half of my baby weight until my daughter was about a year old. So during that first year, every time I went shopping because I needed clothes myself, being two sizes up from my pre-baby state, I would try on a bunch of stuff, get discouraged by how everything looked on my new, larger, weird body, and then go buy cute clothes for my daughter instead. It's only been in the last nine months since I got back down to my pre-pregnancy weight and can fit back into most of my old clothes that I've enjoyed any shopping for myself...and even then, despite the return to my former size, things are just not in the same place they were before (they are in my midsection vs. my butt), and I haven't quite figured out how to dress this new, still weird but smaller body yet, and hey, LOOK! Gymboree is having a sale!
Since my daughter is under two, I am still completely in charge of her wardrobe, which I love. I worry that when the time comes when she starts making decisions about what she wants to wear, she's going to be a tomboy or get her fashion sense from my husband, who thinks that he only needs three pairs of shoes (one dress, one hiking boot, one sneaker) to get by in life and that every time he gets a new clothing item, an older clothing item must be stricken from his clothing rotation, even if the older item is still perfectly fine. I know it's a silly worry in the grand scheme of things, but I still think about how I will handle it if she rejects all my fashion sense. I want her to be her own person and I respect that she is not the same person as me, but I really hope she likes dressing cute and girly.
Right now, it's hard to tell if she's going to be girly at all. Recently, she and I flew to Alabama to attend a reunion of my dad's extended family. The reunion was held on my late grandparents' farm, which is still in the family. I've never been much of a farm girl, as you can imagine. Outside of shelling peas and learning to drive the tractor when I was 15, I pretty much steer clear of farm-ish activities. (I'm the only one of the seven first cousins who doesn't own camo or hunt. And there are three other girls. Seriously.)
My daughter, on the other hand, LOVED the farm. She spent the day running out toward the fields, collecting sticks, and riding on a mini tractor. Of course, she did all of this in the outfit I picked out for her.
I know, I know. White frilly socks and sandals for the farm. What was I thinking? Well, I was thinking that I wanted all 59 of my relatives to think she was cute! At least I didn't put her in white tights, which was what I planned when I thought it was going to be chilly. What was I, Glam-O-Mommy, wearing, you ask? A white beaded top, black capri pants, and black gladiator heels...perfect for chasing after a tiny tot in a pink sundress who is making it her mission to find all the mudholes in the land. While this gave my sweet Southern family quite a chuckle, I assured them, this was nothing. I once climbed a mountain in Canada in heels to make my husband happy. At the end of the day on the farm, my daughter had never been happier...or dirtier.
But I got a ray of hope this week. My daughter has suddenly discovered the joy of wearing sunglasses. She has had a few pairs for months, but didn't like them and would never keep them on until now. One morning before she went to school this week, she put these on all of her own accord...note how perfectly they match her ensemble.
She's accessorizing! And striking a bit of a diva attitude, I might add. My Glam-O-Mommy heart is SO proud!
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