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?

No Crying Over Spilled Milk

I got an e-mail from Skadi’s teacher yesterday.

 

My daughter is opposite my son – she is a food snob and wants nothing to do with the school lunches. “Their cheese pizza is gross mommy, it doesn’t taste anything like what pizza should.” So every day I pack her a lunch. She is also a milk fiend. We have been out of milk boxes and I have been a slacker about going and buying more (plus, they are freaky expensive) and so lately I have been sticking her milk in a sealed cup of some sort – a Sigg, a Camelback mug, something of that nature.

 

Well I won’t be doing that anymore!

 

Her teacher e-mailed me letting me know that her milk spilled in her lunchbox, which was in her backpack. She “instructed me” to wash her bag tonight and told me that she wouldn’t send home her library book or folders or any work until the backpack was washed since there was an odor.

 

Nearly all my communications with her teacher are via e-mail and I have to say that the first third of the year went by with me bristling every time I got an e-mail from her. Her written communications aren’t the best. Then I had Skadi’s parent teacher conference and my opinion of her changed – she was warm and friendly and actually seemed to like and appreciate my daughter and her strange sense of fashion and wow, she really is a VERY, VERY smart little girl (too bad she doesn’t choose to show it very often)! Then I got the choppy e-mail from her regarding the milk incident and I tried hard not to bristle again.

 

I responded that the bag would get washed tonight and I was sorry to hear about the spilled milk and left it at that.

 

Then Skadi got home.

 

“Mom, my library book got ruined and Mrs. W said that we have to PAY for it!” she tells me.

 

At this point I am confused – there was no mention of the ruined library book in the e-mail. But Skadi is adamant that she needs to pay for it. So I send back a quick e-mail – “Skadi tells me her library book was ruined by the milk. Obviously we will pay for this, please tell me who I should contact to send a check to or to plan for a replacement book.” And she replied quickly with a name – and yes, the library book was ruined.

 

Ok, so all that is dealt with despite my being a little irksome that the ruined book wasn’t mentioned the first time around, we are moving on. Then there is bedtime.

 

I went in and Skadi had all her change piled onto her bed and proceeded into a conversation I would NEVER have with my money-grubbing son.

 

“What is this for?” I ask her.

 

“I am getting all my money together to take to school to pay for the library book,” she tells me.

 

“No honey, mommy will pay for the library book,” I tell her, grabbing the change to put it away.

 

“No. Mrs W says that I will have to pay for it and I AM going to!” she grabs the money back.

 

“Honey, mommy will pay for the book, when Mrs. W says that you will have to pay, she means ‘your family’”, (or at least she dang well better mean that).

 

“No mommy, I have my money, I will pay,” she insists again.

 

“Skadi no,” I tell her. “You are my daughter, I am responsible. You save your money.”

 

“But mommy, I don’t want to waste your money,” she cries.

 

“You aren’t wasting it honey!” I tell her, “I was the one who packed the milk in the leaky cup.”

 

“Yes, you are right, you did do that, it wasn’t me,” she said.

 

The conversation went on a bit longer as I finally got her to accept that *I* would pay for the book and that she wouldn’t.

 

I left impressed with my daughter’s determination to pay for the ruined book, something we are pushing with our kids "take responsibility", but at the same time dismayed at her teacher. Why does she tell Skadi she needs to pay for a book, but didn’t convey that to me in the e-mail? She is 5 years old, the spilled milk was an accident, but it made a strong impact on her day. Why, oh why, could she not have dealt directly with me on something that was ruined and needed replaced?

 

I think I am back to bristling at my interactions with her – starting to think the conference meeting was a good show put on for my benefit.