Sock Wars

I thought I had certain parts of preschooler parenting figured out. After all, I've done this stage of life before--twice actually, if you include my step son Brandon. And I have no problem telling you, my reader, that I've patted myself on the back for some creative parenting in the process.

When Adam was old enough to have an opinion on how he was dressed, I soon learned that color coordinating was an acquired skill. In the anal-retentiveness of a new parent, I took the reigns early on in seeing to it that he matched. The older he got, the more of an opinion he had. Honestly, I don't know if this was a parenting tip from a magazine, or a seasoned mom mentor, or my own stroke of brilliance, but we came up with a compromise. Adam could select either a shirt or pants (or shorts, depending on the temperature) that he wanted to wear that day. I would then select the matching counterpart. He was happy that he had main control and was making big boy decisions -- and I was happy that my son looked rather well put together, as if it was a reflection on my parenting. Adam could also pick his undies and socks, but let's face it, underwear falls into the "don't care" category for a parent--and boy socks....well, their boring and one pair looks like another. Again, a non-issue.

But then I had a girl. After raising three boys first, including my step sons, talk about culture shock. I didn't believe my friends when they talked about the all out wars they would have with their daughters regarding clothes.  For older school aged girls, I've heard they like to change their clothes no less than 3 or 4 times a day. We're not experiencing that yet, but crap  lovely that it's coming. Our wars are different in nature. And there are several. The first battle was over matching. She didn't and did not care to. Ever, apparently. It didn't take long for me to let her win that one. I realized that while I didn't think that purple polka dotted pants matched a green and blue striped shirt, in the end, it didn't really matter. If out in public, most moms would look at her with a "Aww, isn't she cute" expression, realizing that I was allowing my daughter to express herself. And to rest of the men and women who would look at her funny and seemed to be thinking "Gawd, doesn't her mom pay attention to her at all?", I would secretly pray right then and there that they would be blessed with multitudes of daughters.

Another recent battle is over clothing appropriateness. I kid you not when I say that she will want to wear a sleeveless t-shirt when it is 55 degrees out. The fact that I've told her it's spring means that she thinks she can wear her spring clothes. even when we are experiencing more fall like or winter temps.  This is the issue that is the hardest to compromise for me. I want her to be warm enough.  Lord knows she suffers enough illnesses and I don't need her getting sick because she isn't dressed properly.  I finally decided to negotiate by telling her she can wear it in the house, but if we leave the house for errands or such, she'll have to change clothes--or wear a sweater over it. Of course, she agrees and then we're back to multiple clothing changes in a day. Oh, well, maybe that one is eventual anyway.

Still. the hardest fought battle of all has been over the unlikeliest of places-- her socks. I shudder even as I type the words. It probably started about the time she was 3 and developed a love of shoes. With a smile on my face I recall calling Tony on his cell phone while he was at Goodwill. For whatever reason, Tony and the kids love that place and can make an afternoon of it. I called him to find out when they would be home. Tony and Adam were looking through the toys because Elise was trying on all the shoes. She was so happy that Tony couldn't bring himself to tear her away. Each time they go there, Adam comes home with a new toy; Elise, a new pair of shoes. Of course.

Despite her shoe fetish, Elise hates socks. Hates them. Unless they are the Hello Kitty socks from Korea. Those she loves. Tony brought back about a dozen pair from Korea on his last trip. We put a pair in each of the girls' gift bags from her birthday party. The boys from the party got a pair of "Spider man" socks from Korea (actually, they were "spider" socks with the Spider man logo, which I thought was interesting).  After passing them out, Elise had 3 pair left--one white, one pink and one black. She wore those socks every day until there was more hole than sock left. It's on Tony's shopping list for his trip in July to buy about 10 more pair, all for her. The sock bliss only lasted the length of the wear and tear of them. Once she was Hello Kitty-less, the sock wars began again. You may wonder what it is about socks she doesn't like. The question is, what does she like about them? Nothing. The seam across the toe bothers her; the sock doesn't fit across the heel correctly, they are too short on the ankle; too long toward the knee; too tight, too loose. Nightmare. Pair after pair she will find a complaint. And I'd like to throw out there that I think she inherited this from my sister Pam. I remember many arguments between my mom and Pam about the way her socks fit her. Could she not have inherited Pam's gorgeous legs, or beautiful hair? Really, Pam. I'm blaming this one on you!

After the hand-me-down socks and the countless purchases to find the perfect pair/style, I figured she had somewhere around 100 pairs in her sock and underwear drawer. Yet, time and time again, she will come down the stairs sock-less and in tears because she doesn't have anything to wear. Arrggghhhh!! When she came downstairs yesterday in a pair that had more hole than sock left (because apparently holes are not a problem), I finally took desperate measures. I was tired of the yelling and tears (mine, not hers) and thought that maybe the problem was she had too many to sort through. So, Elise and I emptied out her sock drawer (To which she said incredulously "Wow, I have a lot of socks". You think!?) and she tried on one sock from each pair and decided if they were to keep or give (throw) away. I'm a little less embarrassed after I counted and learned that she only had 49 pairs altogether, down from the 100 pair I figured she had in total.  But, sadly, 36 pairs did not make the cut for the various reasons mentioned above. Poor girl, she was right that some of them were clearly too small or too big. Still, only 13 pair made the cut, which should be fine moving into sandal season. Until school starts in the fall, I won't have as many sock wars. That is a plus.

Is it just sad that one of my new favorite memories is from this morning when she put her socks on and proudly came downstairs to show me, exclaiming. "Look Mommy! I found socks I like. They fit so good and I like them. Doesn't that make you happy?" Oh, honey, you do not even know how much!!