Mothers, Don’t Let Your Daughters Dress Badly…

15 May

If there’s one characteristic I cannot deny, it’s that I’m opinionated. It’s a gift and a curse really. I’ve been told it’s because I’m  from New York. Irregardless, I have plenty opinions on women and parents, namely mothers. Since we recently celebrated Mothers’ Day, you know that one day a year the kids HAVE to behave, and your husband HAS to do the dishes, I figured a little mother/daughter dynamic was in the cards for this week’s blog. Also, since I recently found out I’m going to have a daughter in October, I figured I’d better get these parenting skills mastered. Already messed up the first kid, gotta do the second one right this time! If there is one thing that drives me ABSOLUTELY insane, it’s seeing a mother and daughter out, in public, the mother is dressed to the nines but the daughter looks like she just rolled out of bed, three days ago, and has missed her mouth every time she’s been fed a meal. Where is the pride, people? I understand we are in a recession, and there are parts of this country that the recession has turned into a depression, however, even at my poorest of poor, I have always managed to bathe, clothe, and take care of my son, even if that means I’ve had to go without. I live in a part of this great metroplex where I would say “class” is not always part of people’s moral code. This is a great place to raise kids, the schools are great, the people are nice, but their manners are somewhat lacking. Let’s just say if WalMart had a city, this is where they live. I cannot tell you how many times I’ve seen this exact instant there. However, this past weekend I had a proud moment. I was in line at Blockbuster, my personal hell, and the woman in front of me had three kids with her. All were well groomed, well dressed, and BEHOLD, their shoes matched their outfits. Now I have been the victim of the child that wants to “dress himself”. He doesn’t have mommy’s fashion sense, and his favorite pair of shoes are Sketchers…God forbid. But every once in awhile I “let” him dress himself, however for public events in which pictures are going to be taken, it’s all hands on deck. I don’t plan on being that controlling parent that dresses their kid until they’re 20, but I also don’t mind throwing out the phrase “he dressed himself” as often as possible when needed. There are definitely a few mommies out there that take the reflection of themselves to the highest degree when their daughters make public appearances. For celebrities I feel like the pressure is always on, and let me just applaud those mothers whose kids’ closets even I envy. Lets face it, could Suri Cruise be any more adorable? And Lourdes has had her own clothing line since, what, the 90’s?!?! We’ve all had our Britney moments, thankfully, the paparazzi don’t following me to Starbucks on the weekends…hence the reason for hitting the drive-thru. Can someone please tell me why I never have to get out of the car until the instant I wear rain boots and capris to the drive-thru??? It’s tempting fate, I know.   So after finding out we will be blessed with a baby girl yesterday, my husband was nervous, but relieved, and even a little excited.Me, suddenly terrified. Do I really have to share my shopping budget with another little fashionista, who I secretly hope loves vintage like I do, but also hope does not for fear I may have to get a real job. I do hope for a camera hog, a mini-me mixed with the best parts of my husband, and the admiration for her big brother that is only found between two siblings. As I pass through Minneapolis next week on our way to my in-laws, I know the perfect vintage shop to stop and see because they always have a small selection of vintage kids clothes. My daughter will have to look fabulous, there is just no way around it.   My best friend had a baby girl in September. The other day she posted a picture of her with rollers in her hair, with the comment, ‘Toddlers and Tiaras here we come!’ To this I replied, ‘Over my dead body’! I definitely won’t be one of those mothers. In fact if she comes to me and tells me she wants to be a cheerleader, I’ll probably make fun of her. And I’m sure one day she’ll tell her therapist about the other horrible things I did to her when she was younger, like made her wear pantyhose on a sweltering, Houston Easter weekend. My mother still insists that it was MY idea to wear those pantyhose with my Easter dress, WHILE I had chickenpox. Maybe it was, I’m pretty hard headed. If the roles were reversed, I’m sure I’d make my daughter wear them too. Scars are not cool, ladies. Oh I rue the day my daughter decides to get a tattoo, and I’m sure she’ll have more than a few boyfriends that her Dad and I disapprove of, but hopefully in the end she’ll still want to be my friend and love me unconditionally, as well she should. After all, nine months of back pain, butt pain, kicks, and what I’m pretty sure is her digging her finger nails into my insides, I deserve her love no matter what. And when she looks back at all the pictures I took of her over the years, she’ll think two things: 1. “Wow, my friend IS an awesome photographer.” and 2. “Thank you Mom for caring enough about me to not let me go out in public wearing purple and red together……… and never buying me Crocs.”

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