"Change, when it comes, cracks everything open."
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Mix and Match
Boots and Underwear.
In case you can't do basic math (or just don't care), there is 7 years difference between Sebastian and Sawyer. For me, that was the difference between having a baby at 28 and 35.
Having a baby at 28 was fine. I was older, pretty stable. It was a conscious decision, something we wanted and decided on specifically. But still, he was my first. I was nervous and new. I made mistakes. I made sure that he was looking good and put together when we went out. I didn't want to be judged and found lacking. He had great outfits, many with hats. :) What a doll.
Pirate hat and stickers.
If I remember correctly, she wasn't wearing pants.
With Sawyer, though, it's different.
Sure, she is a very different kid that Sebastian. Sebastian is easy, go with the flow. My mellow boy. He was happy and chill and lovely. Sawyer is wild and independent. She has an opinion about everything. She wants to be older, to do things, to see things.
The other day, I was getting ready to go out with Sawyer. I told her to get dressed. I know better than to try and help. I sat and waited, anxious to get going, but knowing I can't rush her. As it turns out, it was well worth the wait.
My dolly came out, pleased as punch. She had chosen a long sleeved yellow shirt, paisley brown tights with pink and blue mixed in, a pink tutu skirt, her kitty cat rain boots and a cowboy hat. Yep.
Yellow rain boots and a tummy.
I wish I had a camera (I found mine about 3 or 4 days later) because she looked amazing. She was so thrilled. All I could do was smile (I don't dare laugh, it would hurt her feelings). I offered her my hand and off we went.
And as I walked through Shopper's Drug Mart with my own personal rainbow running ahead of me, I realized how much I had changed. I wasn't worried about the fact that she didn't match. I didn't care that she had ketchup on her face, and her hair wasn't brushed.
I don't want to stop her. I want her to feel free to pair her green with her purple. I want her to wear her high heels with her nightgowns. She makes me smile, and she makes me laugh. She reminds me of what it felt like when I was a kid, and I had my favorite clothes. I had a satin green jacket and brown zipper boots with a tiny heel. I loved them. I would have worn them every day if I could.
So, when my lovely wants to wear her zombie t-shirt with her crinoline skirt, I won't stop her. I don't care what people think.
If you see me out and about, and there is fuchsia, neon ball of energy hovering near me, just smile and say hi to my baby girl.