My daughter's clothes

A huge issue.

A way too big of an issue, IMO.

One similarity with Skadi and I is that when I was 5, I wore only dresses too. I had some weird and irrational thought that if I wore pants, someone might think I was a boy. I had long hair. I didn't look like a boy. But I was POSITIVE that someone would think me a boy.

When I was very little - probably around three - my dad's mom bought me a pair of cowboy boots. But she poisoned them. She poisoned them because she said "cowboy boots!" Not cowgirl boots. I still remember screaming my head off and my mom hissing through her teeth at me that I WOULD try them on for her one way or another. It was horrible. My feet were poisoned by boy shoes.

Skadi has these same delusions, sort of, at least. With footwear, she is all about comfort and one of her recent favorite pairs of shoes was a pair of brown hand me down Keens from her brother. I have no idea.

But not only does she want to wear a dress daily, but she adds her own flair to her style.

And it is the flair that she and her kindergarten teacher may come to blows over.

I am pretty sure her kindergarten teacher has labelled me as one of *those* parents. At Skadi's fall conference she mentioned one instance regarding the "class t-shirt" and it not being her issue.

The Class T-Shirt. So the deal is that at the beginning of the year the teacher requested we send in a white t-shirt for our kids that would be decorated in all the same way to give the class a consistent and fun look for field trips, group pictures, assemblies, etc. "The kids are just so cute in them!" She proclaimed!

Great!

Except Skadi HATES hers. Despises it.

So Skadi came home last fall with a sticker instructing the kids to wear the t-shirt the next day. And she refused. Wanted nothing to do with it. Since Skadi goes to morning care and I feared it being taken off and left somewhere (since a pink t-shirt underneath is mandatory in Skadi world) - I don't know, stuffed into some drawer or down the toilet at her morning care? I put it in her backpack and sent an e-mail to her teacher explaining that Skadi didn't want to wear it, it is in the backpack, hopefully when she sees the other kids wearing theirs, there will be positive peer pressure and she will want to put it on.

Well at conferences I was told that was out of line and not a teacher issue, not for them to deal with, it was up to me to get her in the t-shirt, her job is to teach.

Actually I disagree a bit. The Class T-Shirt is not part of a uniform that I agreed to. It was a request by the teacher that she wear this t-shirt. Therefore, your request, your problem. Not to be a complete bitch about it or anything, really. But I was rather annoyed.

That hasn't been the end of The Class T-Shirt. Skadi still despises it and on the days before she is supposed to wear it the teacher puts a sticker on the kids' shirt on their way out the door for the day reminding parents.

Any guesses where those stickers go?

I have no flipping idea because I don't see them! So instead Skadi ends up being the only child not in a matching t-shirt on a regular basis. I do have a secret weapon - friends. I have enlisted a parent friend from the class to let me know when her son comes home with a sticker to wear the special shirt.

But seriously, a battle where I am left shaking my head "why?!"

As I mentioned earlier Skadi has her own flair. She loves wearing a tiara daily. She loves pink. She loves dresses. And she prides herself on her clothing "creations". She argues about what matches and what doesn't. She is a clothing centric child. I was not. I like nice clothing and like shopping for clothes (this she got from me), but I don't push the syle boundries.

One day I got an e-mail home citing a school dress code violation. I was perplexed. I looked at my daughter. She was wearing a dress that she has owned for two years, wore to her grandfather's wedding and wears nearly once a week. And now... out of the blue... a dress code violation? Despite the fact that she had a sweater on covering the bare shoulders each day, it was cited that she wore sleeveless dresses two days in a row. (The previous day she did have a halter dress on, but wore a jean shirt/cardigan/light jacket over it.) If this was a problem, why wasn't it brought to my attention when she wore it first and not after 25 times? How do I explain to my daughter that I know it was ok last week when  you wore the dress, but now it isn't?

Skadi gets it I think - and it may sound awful - but I blame her teacher. "Remember Mrs. W said you can't wear dresses without sleeves?" But you know? It works. And there is no battle. And she willingly changes to abide by Mrs. W's rules.

The other day Skadi wore a long flowing maxi-style skirt that she loves. Apparently when running on the playground she tripped on the dress and it ripped. Badly. Skadi came home in a pair of humongous sweat pants. I e-mailed her teacher acknowledging the rip and thanking her for loaning her a pair of sweat pants.

I kind of expected an e-mail back saying, "you're welcome".

Not surprisingly the e-mail back to me was not a "you're welcome" but instead said that she wouldn't need the pants if she would quit wearing long dresses and skirts and recommended that maybe if I let Skadi pick out a pair of sparkley pants that she wouldn't feel so compelled to wear dresses all the time.

I didn't respond. Because if you don't have anything nice to say...

I thought pretty strongly about snapping a picture of my daughter's pants collection - the pink jeans, the cheetah print jeggings, the pink cheetah print jeans, the yoga pants, pink fleece pants... - and sending that off.

But I resisted. I may have cursed a bit, felt as though I was being judged as a mom, wondering if she had even MET my daughter... oh wait, those e-mails about my daughter's stubborn nature recently... maybe she had met her once.

I came to a conclusion the other day... I continually get notes about Skadi's lack of progress when tested linked to her refusal to do simple tasks... apparently she only knows 5 letters, for example. (Yet she can write her and her brother's full names and most of her sight words...)

Maybe if the teacher quit worrying about and focusing on my daughter's clothing, she could focus on teaching my daughter?

This I love

When I was a kid my mom would let me play in the kitchen and invent my own recipes. Skadi has taken this on.

This is her recipe for her first invention - "Chocolate Fluffy Puff". It is especially neat for her as her brother likes it and requests she make it for her regularly.

I like it because it has seriously upped my kids' milk intake.

Simple, not terribly original, but very cool for a kindergartener. And I am putting away the recipe card.

Recipe: Chocolate Fluffy Puff
From: Skadi

Pour milk in a cup.
Put a scoop of chocolate in it. (We use Ovaltine.)
I stirred it good.
Milk frother it.

(The key component to this recipe is the milk frother. A little <$7 gadget I grabbed at Ikea to froth my milk for my coffee. So I rarely use it. It is getting a run lately as Skadi froths a half a glass of milk to the top. Cool stuff!)

Office Products Addictions?

My mom, when she was alive, coveted office products. She collected them. My stepfather will never ever ever have to buy any type of office product again.

"You know for as much as your mom cleared out everything else and avoided clutter," he said once, "what we all didn't realize was that her 'thing' was office products. She hoarded office products!"

The other day I took the kids to Michael's. I had a few small things I wanted to buy, but one of the main reasons was guilt. I felt guilty with respect to Skadi because AB and I get sucked into these games of Fortune Street with Leif and Skadi doesn't care to play Wii at all. So she plays by herself, or draws, or whatever. It isn't like she complains about it, but I felt the need to give her some kits and some other fun things to do for those one or two evenings when AB and I give in and play Wii with Leif.

We were wandering the aisles of Michaels when it struck Skadi.

There in the clearance bin was a PINK tape dispenser.

And the child went nuts. Yes NUTS!

"MOM!! I HAVE TO GET THIS! A PINK TAPE DISPENSER!" She squealed at the top of her little lungs. I was wondering what other shoppers thought about my daughter's freak out over this pink tape dispenser?

She grabbed it and held it fondly.

Then she HUGGED the tape dispenser. Seriously. She HUGGED it.

I immediately saw my mom's influence on my daughter. Is this office products addiction genetic?

I agreed that she could get the most fabulous pink tape dispenser that she was cradling in her arms.

We went home and I stuck it on the counter that bugs me in the kitchen. I have this "desk" in my kitchen that since the day we moved in has become a landing space for everything and serves no real actual purpose. When people state they want a desk in their kitchen, I cringe. I want the actual counter space as kitchen prep area instead.

Anyways, I put the tape dispenser on the counter. And yes, she has used it routinely.

The other day one of her friends came over for a playdate. The two giggly little girls were wandering around the house when they made their way through the kitchen.

"Oooooh!" Kait squealed, "I LOVE your tape dispenser!"

"Isn't it fabulous?" Skadi squealed back. (The girls are in the squealing phase.) She picked it up, "you can hold it if you want!"

Kait takes it and turns it over in her hands and declares it "cool". Then they put it down and wander off to go giggle and squeal about something else.

I think I am missing something here. But it may be the best $1.50 I have ever spent.

A rite of girlhood - or so I thought

When I was 5 years old I begged and begged my mom to let me get my ears pierced. We talked about it pretty extensively - how they pierced ears (by sticking a needle through) and how it would take SIX whole weeks to heal and how during that time I would have to wear the boring "studs" and not take them out and clean them so so well. Oh and not until I was 12 would I get to wear earrings that "dangled".

One day my mom and my best friend's mom took us to Market Square in downtown Casper.

I don't remember who went first. But I remember the tears welling up in my eyes and I remember the pain. But I remember that I was NOT going to cry.

My best friend didn't have as good of luck - she got one ear pierced and sometime later her mom took her back down to get the other.

I took such good care of my newly pierced ears, cleaning them twice daily, rotating them so that they didn't get stuck and grow into my ears.

My dad wasn't a fan of pierced ears and from my mom's tales, her taking me to get my ears done did NOT go over well.

When staying at his house one summer when I was an early teenager, I pierced my own ears again. I experienced the silence when he discovered my pierced ear.

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I have been secretly buying little earrings - pink "gem" Disney studs, ladybug studs and I have my collection of earrings from when I was a kid set aside for my daughter.

At 5 years old, I kept expecting her to request pierced ears and looked forward to the happy day when I explained to her the process, how it hurts a bit, but doesn't later, how she has to clean her new holes well, rotate the studs and not wear dangly earrings.

A few months ago while watching me get ready, the topic came up.

"Wait mommy, you are putting your earrings THROUGH your ears!" she noted. "Why is that?"

"Well I have my ears pierced," I announced, "so I put earrings through my ears! See!" And I proudly showed her all my earrings and the holes in my ears.

She got this freaked out look on her face and quickly said, "I am NEVER doing that!"

"You don't want your ears pierced?" I asked her.

"Never, no way!" she answered without hesitation.

"Well maybe you will want them done later," I told her.

"Nope, never," she declared.

I dropped it confident that she would revisit the topic in a week or so after thinking about it and she would BEG me to take her and get them pierced.

Nope.

Every few weeks she sees someone her age with pierced ears and whinces just in looking at them.

And every couple weeks she begs me not to hurt myself by putting earrings IN my earlobes when in fact I can simply borrow stickers from her to put on them instead.

And I sigh and then reassure her that I am in no pain and that I actually like my earrings.

And she shrugs and declares once again - because I haven't heard enough - "no way am I EVER getting my ears pierced."

And she is stubborn enough... yeah I am no longer picking up cute little earrings to stash away for her.

Happy Birthday Skadi!

Five? 5? Not four? Not three? 5? For reals, five?

How can it be?

Dear Skadi,

I remember five years ago walking the halls of the hospital - up and down, up and down, wondering when we were going to get to meet you. By that time, being my second baby, I felt I was an old pro at this. It was just a matter of time and I would have my baby in my arms. But the contractions weren't coming, nothing was moving, except that hand that seemed to be waving at us, giving us an ahead warning of your stubbornness.

I thought I knew it all, but as all babies are, you were different. You are different. You arrived at 1:59pm on March 23rd, 2007. I should have guessed - all prime numbers are in your birthday and time. As someone who loves numbers, this did not escape me.

Over the last few years you have grown and changed in such amazing ways. There are days I know exactly you are my daughter - like when you beg for a pedicure, want your hair braided and jump up and down with excitement when I announce it is gymnastics lessons night.  Other times I look at you and wonder where you may have come from - like when you scream at the top of your little lungs, sass the boys in your class (instead of shrinking in a corner like I did), tell your teacher where she can stick it (not literally, thank goodness) and beat your brother up while playing swords.

I look at you and occasionally see myself as a five year old. I remember the first day of kindergarten well and I hope yours is as magical this year as mine was.

You love to bake and cook and I know you got that from me, your grandma Barbara and your great great grandma Hanna. You are about the pickiest thing around and would live on Dinosaur nuggets if we let you. You don't like berries or stone fruit or pears, but love apples, oranges and bananas - I can't figure this out. You will eat them if they are dried though, so I am assuming it is a texture thing because I can officially say that you have never had a berry in your mouth.

Did I say stubborn? Yeah, that goes without saying.

You like everything pink, though purple and blue are alright too. You prefer that everything be "girl" and an effective marketing campaign to your type would be to mark everything with "Girl" in front of it. "Girl food", "Girl toothbrush", "Girl Hangers", "Girl Paper"...

Amazingly you do eat and enjoy broccoli and broccoli rabe. You seem to like canned carrots for some unknown reason. (Can I just say, nasty?) You like chicken tikka masala, rice, quesadillas, and of course we can't forget cheese pizza. Sweet tooth? Again, goes without saying.

You love Barbies and Princesses (Ariel is the best, followed by Tiana and Rapunzel). But you also like Legos and building. You really like art and your teacher has figured out that is an effective bribe - to threaten to take away art privileges. I only wish the threat worked because too often you end up losing those privileges.

Your best friends are Olivia, Maddie and Raquel. This coming year though you will switch schools and leave them behind. We went and registered you for kindergarten one day. You were so brave as we marched up to the school and filled out the hundreds of forms that are somewhat akin to buying a house. After we left we went for a Starbucks treat and you got a tear in your eye as you told me, "but I didn't even get to say goodbye to my Apple Tree friends". I felt so bad! Of course you were still going to be in Apple Tree for 6 months but your capacity for emotions always amazes me.

When you are asked what you want to be when you grow up it is something like a "mermaid princess". Personally I think you will be an amazing doctor or lawyer. Your teacher thinks you will excel as a fashion designer. Of course, maybe the mermaid princess thing will work out? You are an amazing little swimmer and gymnast.

Whatever it is, I know you have the capacity to succeed. When I tell you that I love you, you always reply, "I love you more". I assure you that you don't, though I can tell you never believe me.

I love you more Skadi Jeanne.

Love, Mom