The Battle of the Closet

So. Clothing issues. They're a thing. A thing that gives me a river of tears and an ocean of frustration.

 

I have this totally realistic notion that my child should be turned out as nicely as Quiona on a Scandi-post-mod-Mojave playdate. I'm really invested in this idea. Like if you knew how much time I spend "pretend shopping" for my child, weeping bitter tears about all the adorable outfits she would never, ever wear, you'd probably vomit. Right now. 

 

But my dreams of Catmini Baby Dresses are thwarted by one thing: my child's will.

 

Mama chose this outfit. Please note the socks which are particularly adorable. 

 

I had a good run there, wherein I could dictate clothing choices. It lasted about 14 joyous months. But then. Someone developed a will of her own.

Long before she could speak actual words, Stella made her opinions re. baby clothing known. This is dress is my jam. This is total and utter bunkum. And what the hell were you even thinking suggesting that, excuse me, I'll now throw a tantrum for the next 43 minutes.

  

This outfit: Also Mama's choice. And can we just take a moment to focus on the adorableness of Baby Stella??? Also, this skirt is still in heavy rotation, all all these years later. 

 

Because I was a first-time parent, I bought into the notion that I should be offering choices to my child à la "do you want to wear the pink dress or the blue dress?" You know, gold-star-A++ parenting and stuff.  That little gem of parental wisdom took me doomed to me a trip down the path of pint-sized sartorial tyranny.

 

We got to the point where dressing for the day is such an issue that the prospect of removing last night's pyjamas is about as attractive as removing a limb. Forget about settling on what shirt would go with what skirt, we're outside the arena of logic and reasoning: Dis one. No dis. NOOOOO! Not dis! No, I want pants, but Stella, you are wearing pants, leggings are pants, NO I WANT PAAAANNNNTS!!! PANTS!!!

 

Forget about daydreaming about a closet stocked with items from the Armani baby clothing range, I just wanted my child to wear clothing. And not spend 43 minutes every morning crying about them.

 

So, anyway, I had this brilliant idea (inspired by this post) to create a chart detailing our morning routine. I thought (naïvely) that all we needed was a bit of structure and a dash of consistency to hit this problem right at the source. Follow the same steps, at the same time, and TA DA! clothing battles would be no more.

  

If you want to know how to dress your girl for Autumn, THIS. 

I'd pick out two outfits, lay them out before bed, and then come morning time, Stella would check her list, and when it came to "Get Dressed" she could choose which she wanted to wear. No negotiation. No tantrums.

 

Stella was stoked about the chart. At first. I mean we made it together! She stuck it on the wall with Washi tape (of course). And for the first week or so, she dashed out of bed and asked to check her list. Victory, I though! I win at parenting! A bit of structure and constancy is the cure for everything!

 

I was so sure that I'd found the magic morning beans that I proposed to write an article about my method. 

 

And then came the day that Stella realised what I was up to. In a fit of rage she tore down the list, crumpled it up, and gave it a good stomping.

 

The next morning when I told her to go check her list she replied thusly: "I can not. I bloke my wist. I can NOT get dwessed!."

 

Okay. Checkmate.

 

So, the only solution I can really think of is to put all my eggs in the next basket, cuz this particular sartorial ship has surely sailed. Baby number two, sorry, but you'll never get any input in to your outfits. If I say Moschino baby boys clothes, than Moschino it'll be. Sorry baby boy. 

 

But seriously, do you have clothing battles? Do you have any tips? I mean. ARGGG!!!! I mean, I'm so glad my kid has a strong sence of style and a will of iron, but we also have priorities (see: adorablness!) and I could have more patience if these tantrums were about something serious like not being allowed ice cream for breakfast, but putting clothing on you body??!!! COME ON!

Small print: This post was written on behalf of Strawberry Children. As always, all content and opinions are mine alone. Thanks, guys!