I love my kids.
I love everything about them.
I love their laughter, and the way they walk. I love how they think and act. I love the way they pray and how quickly they can memorize words.
I love them, I simply can’t get enough.
I even love how they dress.
I had a sibling that suffered through a lot of wardrobe issues, which caused a fair share of tension with my parents–and I’m terrified of it. I have strong opinions about fashion, I really enjoy putting together outfits and designing looks, I never realized how much I could like it until I had kids. These beautiful and perfect little bodies are just begging to be dressed up. It could so easily spin out of control,
I can almost feel it pulling me towards the dark side.
(Don’t become some weird kind of pageant-coach, Trina.)
My one saving grace has been that my children seem to have their own impeccable taste when it comes to fashion. It’s keeping me from descending down the “stage-mom” rabbit hole.
My cyclone-son tends to dress in layers, often with a belt strapped across his chest to carry his “weapons”. He combines things like camo and bright-red, and I LOVE it. It’s not an obsession on his part, more of a declaration of independence. By taking control of his clothes he is able to expresses who he has decided to be for the day. Sometimes a rockstar, sometimes a superhero, sometimes a skater, always my love.
My girl basically sticks to one style: namely tutus. Every outfit contains a tutu, whether she’s already wearing a dress or not. (Sometimes she doesn’t even change out of her pajamas first.)
My favorite outfits combine her brother’s hand-me-downs with her princess skirts. Plus she often accessorizes with Cyclone’s weapons, my warrior princess!
She also chooses to dress in layers and I usually just let her have at it–I simply can’t get enough of her little tutu-ed tushie!!
But, no matter how much my two love to dress themselves–I find them, more often then not, half-naked-little-ragamuffins.
Their natural state.
I just can’t get enough.