As she gets older, I want to respect her privacy - recognize that she won't want all her business out there for the blog world to read. (Already getting the wary "are you going to blog about this?" or the cheesy poses, as she yells "put this picture on Facebook!" Yikes.)
It's spring. She grew. Not like, 'oooh those pants are getting a tad short' grew - more like, 'honey are those shorts a little long or are the they pants I JUST BOUGHT YOU IN JANUARY?'
So she needs new clothes. Ok, not 'needs' like she needs a new toothbrush, but hey - I'm a tall girl and a little sensitive about making tall kids wear too-short trousers.
So I spend two hours of MY FREE TIME, and I buy her new clothes. Not cheap clothes, because I'm a little old fashioned in this way, and I hate when t-shirts fall apart in the washer after wearing them twice. But, we're not talking Gucci or Ralph Lauren stuff here either.
I give her the bag. She makes the snottiest face. She says "ugh. I guess I'd wear that. Maybe like... once a month."
People? I had to walk out of the room. I WAS THAT MAD.
Where do I go from here? Seriously - looking for advice on this one. Do I just let her pick out what she wants (glitter, sparkles, the Shar-Pei line) at Target? Do I give a big speech about looking for well-made seams and lining in dresses? How do I deliver the message that it is not ok to be snotty (and/or snobby?!?! about your clothes) at THE TENDER AGE OF EIGHT??
Coming up hard against the perplexities of raising girls these days, and coming up short of answers.
This confused little rant is part of the Stream of Consciousness Sunday posts over at All Things Fadra. Bunch of posts this week, on all sorts of stuff. Check it out!