Please stop throwing a tantrum on the floor of the garage…you’ll ruin your cute outfit

On occasion, my sweet husband reminds me that our little girls are not my dress-up dolls.

I politely remind him that 1). In the rare event that he’s in charge of getting the girls dressed, they either stay in their jammies most of the day or completely don’t match. And 2). That it brings me joy to dress my sweet girls.

Plus, they are too little to protest.

Matching dresses for Mother's Day...don't they look thrilled?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m sure I only have a small window of this blissful time where they are happy and willing to wear whatever adorable things I put them in. I’ll just take it and enjoy it while I can.

Tutu Tuesday- yes, they are both wearing tutus!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Because if what goes around comes around and my girls are even a bit like I was as a pre-schooler, I’m going to get an earful each morning about wardrobe selection. My mother says I deserve it. I couldn’t agree more.

I was an absolute hellion about clothes when I was little. One of my earliest memories is of 4-year-old me stubbornly refusing to get dressed. The outfit my mom had picked out for me to wear to pre-school was just not working for me, and I flat-out refused to put it on.

Did I mention she had just given birth to my sister three days earlier? Family legend has it that she practically begged me to get dressed, but apparently I didn’t care. My poor mother. And I was only four.

Fast-forward 24 years. At the moment, I still can dress my girls in adorable Baby Gap clothes without protest. I enjoy it. They don’t seem to mind. Everyone is happy…except maybe Hubs when he sees our Gap bill. But that’s a different post for another day.

Shhh...don't tell Daddy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anyway, you can imagine my horror when the other day, Little O had a complete and total toddler meltdown on the garage floor. We’ve been having a lot of these tantrums lately. Apparently it’s our introduction to the Terrible Two’s.

At any rate, Little O was pitching a total fit. She was laying down on the floor of the garage— with her cheek actually pressed against the ground– screaming. And what thought was running through my head?

I’ll give you a hint. It was NOT:

• I wonder how many of our neighbors are watching this?
• How can I get tantruming Little O inside while still holding Baby H at the same time?
• What could I have done differently to avoid this meltdown?

No friends. The only thought in my head was:

Nooooo! You are ruining your outfit!

Epic fail on the mommy front.

I was too distracted by my child getting dirty on the garage floor to concern myself with responsible parenting thoughts. I mean, really. The garage floor?! Who knows what lives down there. Ick.

The meltdown was so rough that I ended up having to momentarily put Baby H back into the stroller for safekeeping so I could scoop up Little O and get her inside.  After she calmed down, regrouped and said “O sorry, Mama” in her adorable toddler voice, I snuck a quick glance down at her outfit to assess the damage.

Nothing a little Dreft can’t handle, I decided, sighing with relief.

Counting My Kisses: I love picking out clothes for my little girls each morning. I’m enjoying the luxury while I still can– before we know it they will be picking out their prom dresses!

[Note: Baby Gap and Dreft are not sponsors of this blog…although it would be awesome if they were!]