The 'Pants' Talk

Last week I took the Doctor into the dentist to have a filling. But we wont' talk about that right now.


What I want to write about is the fact that I had to have a firm 'pants' talk with Tiny.


My little friend Tiny does not like pants. Too tight. Too 'comfy'. Too too too - too pantish. Tiny doth protest the pant.


The day was long and the day was cold, so I advised Tiny to wear some leggings. In fact, she had some new polka dot leggings and oh my! They look so cute on her. Ridiculous how cute.


Tiny is an advocate for choosing her own outfits - ever since she was a wee babe. So I've come around to it, and mostly let her choose - except when it's inappropriate to weather or place. You can wear that sheer ballet skirt. But not to the supermarket. No one needs to see your knickers.


Sometimes I work out options for her - give her two pieces to choose from, then she's got some independence and feels like she's making that choice. And usually she'll comply. And then return to her bedroom while I am otherwise occupied, strip off and either emerge completely newd, or in another random outfit. Like when it was super chilly this week - she came out in a t-shirt and ballet skirt. Then went outside and told me she was cold - and quite literally turned purple. Funny that. 


So this day last week - she had a complete meltdown after getting dressed. And I felt cranky and fed up with the tussle. The constant tussle. The hussle and bussle of the pants. 


She threw the biggest wobbly (or lobbly as she would say) for at least half an hour. Crying. Screaming. Fluctuating between inconsolable and completely angry with me. I forced her limbs into warm clothes - and she went on. We finally got into the car, and she sobbed throughout the short drive to the train station. We were about to catch our train when I stood in the street with her and pointed out that everyone was wearing pants. Or stockings. Or tights. It was pants-on Wednesday. It would have been a funny conversation to overhear. 


She detests the pants. 
I am pro-pants. 
She detests shoes - and always points out pictures where fairies are barefoot. 
I try and find pro-shoe fairies. It is a constant shift. 
Will she? Won't she? 


She's a funny little person that Tiny. I don't want to quash out her individuality - but I do want her to be warm. It's a quandary.
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Last night I crawled into bed downbeat and exhausted. Tiny awoke with vomit covering her bed, her pyjamas. Then cried. And cried. And I stripped the bed while Matt put her in the shower. Gastro is a wicked beast. 


PS  - Check out this ace piece I was included in. I didn't know until one of the other ace bloggers let me know. How cool!