When I Eat My Words

Buy used. Purchase fairly made items. It's not about what you wear. Clothes don't make a person.

I've said it all before. In theory, it all sounds great. Morality over aesthetics. When it comes down to the boys? Epic fail.

Let's start by saying that little boy clothes are generally atrocious. Painfully bright shirts with overly-cartoonish creatures. Cargo shorts with a bagillion pockets. Plain, baggy everything. I just never wanted to boys like that. How could I be so shallow when I boasted my morals as the opposite? I have a few theories on this one. Firstly, when I was pregnant each time, I begged and pleaded for a girl. The clothing options were adorable. Peasant blouses with tights and adorable gold flats. And the head bands! As much as I lack style and hate accessories, the idea of being able to play dress up with a little girl was too much fun. But then, reality came glaring at me with each ultrasound. Boys it would most definitely be. Well, if I was going to have boys, they might as well look good, I rationed. And by good, I meant not baby-ish or little boy-ish. What did I do? I headed to Dillard's and stocked up on little man shirts and jeans and hoodies (on clearance, of course), so the fetus could come out and immediately be dressed just like Daddy. No onesies or rompers for them. They were going to come out little skaters and musicians. Just add skateboards and drum sticks.

That's what happened for the most part. I shelled out cash for the boys to look my version of awesome. Maybe it also meant they would grow up faster. I mean, they looked like little men. My mother always commented on how old they looked because they were never in baby clothes. Frankly, I liked that. Grow, children, grow!

Reality set in, as it always does. Getting the boys men-styled clothes didn't magically age them any faster. I took a step back and gave in a bit. A few onesies here. Carpenter jeans there. Shopping at re-sale and thrift stores occasionally. Allowing Noah to pick out a few of his own shirts no matter how much I gagged at the design. I had given in and allowed morals to override aesthetics.

Then came this week. The Hubs desired a new sweatshirt and needed a new hat. Since the style he prefers is rarely available second-hand, and if it is, it's still the same price as buying new on clearance, new was the best option. Again, to Dillard's and Nordstrom's Rack we headed. The hats were too pricey or ugly if on clearance. Hoodies were insanely priced. Oh, but the boys section is right around the corner. Let me just take a peek. Wrong choice. Over $100 later, Noah had a new wardrobe. Flat fronted shorts with no cargo pockets--almost identical to Daddy's. A haul of new shirts with the latest designs from Hurley and Quiksilver.Shirts that Daddy wish they made in his size. The sting of failure and loss of money set in. I had once again fallen in the trap of trying to make my kids cool by dressing them "cool" instead of encouraging them to have good personalities to become "cool" people.

What to do now? Do I return it all and try to find decent clothes at a second-hand store? Do I keep it all knowing that the brands I purchased are well-made and will easily last through two children? As of right now, I'm unsure of which direction to take. I still swoon when I see the boys dressing like Daddy. And I know my time of picking out their wardrobe is extremely limited. When we've purchased "lower" brands new and used, they seem to stay stained and easily rip or get holes. As much as I hate to be a brand whore, the brands I generally purchase for the boys have done an AMAZING job of holding up through two wild children. Plus, of the clothes I purchased, Noah is already attached to every item. They are his special clothes--"Just like Daddy's shirt!" The kid likes to be a mini-Daddy. I hate to take that away from him. I'm in a pickle, y'all.

How do you instill the morals and ethics of not worrying about what you wear when you still really do care about what the child wears? I'm unsure of where to draw that line. Today, I'll keep on swoonin' over the Daddy resemblance. Tomorrow may just bring the clothing rebellion.

And really, who doesn't love a toddler in Chuck Taylor's?