Well, last year, I bragged (I know I shouldn't have) about how G lets me dress her in anything I want to. We were always complimented on how cute she looked. She was the ultimate G*ap Baby. This year however, G has decided that either one of her two short sleeve t-shirts should be the uniform of choice, everyday!! Oh and no tights nor boots, thank you very much. "Oh, and you, Mama, can't wear boots or panty hose, either."
This morning, the battle bagan. All I ask is that she wear a long sleeve t-shirt underneath the short sleeve one. I give her two choices, either this long sleeve t-shirt or your t-shirt layered. That is simple, right? Nope, guess again. In her panties only, she begins the melt down and after 5 minutes of discussing the choices, I get fed up and throw the t-shirt I have at her dresser and walk away. Yea, I know very "mature" of me. I know I was wrong. I am working on it. Not to make excuses because there is none, but this is an every morning thing we go through. She has so many nice, cute outfits, so many. Plus it is cold in the morning with highs only in the 50s. Trust me, I don't want her to dress like she is in the North pole, but lets be reasonable, a short sleeve t-shirt, come on.
Well, after my display, G is very compliant and will wear the long sleeve t-shirt. I asked if she is only wearing it because I got mad and she said, "yes." Oh, well, um, okay. I vow, never again. If her shirts are clean, she will get to wear them. I will not make clothes a battle. I refuse to do that. I have to get my angry outbursts under control. I am the grownup, I can do it.
Sorry, baby girl. I promise to be a better mother to you, this year and all the years to come.