I have since given up trying to have the morning wrestling match in regards to what my four-year old will choose to wear to school each day. We had a lovely stretch of leggings and skirts and tops with a headband arranged just so. Maddie Long Legs (as her favorite teacher dubbed her when she was just a baby) has since abandoned said outfit. We have moved on to tights, dresses, and a headband arranged just so. Unless her besties are not wearing headbands, then we have a ponytail arranged just so, or just her recently cut locks arranged not so (brushing hair is akin to cutting off your arm in our house).
There is no hope for pants with anything that resembles a button or zipper. Besides the fact that she is tall and lanky, those simply won’t do for my tactile picky offspring. A notion that my mother rejoices in as sweet, sweet karma due to her exasperation in getting me to wear socks that had anything resembling a seam.
We have reached a tremulous truce, my daughter and I. She can dress herself, pick out her own outfit and I
cringe at admire her individual fashion sense. Which is why she traipsed down the stairs in navy blue polka dot tights with a purple glittery dress and starry black rain boots.
I stood there tapping my ballet flat adorned foot (no socks) waiting for her to decide which headband to wear and we went out into the world to start our day.