Fashionista

There are some battles that I just don't have time for.

Today, Ava is wearing red socks with pink crocs, and the red socks SHOW. Whether it matches the rest of her outfit (it totally doesn't) just doesn't matter. Ava and I have come to an agreement on the process of getting dressed in the morning. I lay out her clothing options the night before--two pairs of pants, two tops. That is all. If we open the drawer in the morning when time is short, then we run the risk of, um, disagreeing about what actually gets worn.

Case in point: The Butterfly Shirt. If Ava sees the yellow shirt with the butterfly on it, then THAT IS WHAT SHE SHALL WEAR AND THERE IS NO FURTHER DISCUSSION. She will not wear a jacket over the butterfly shirt, making it no longer an option now that it's chilly outside. The butterfly shirt lives at the bottom of the drawer until spring (as butterflies should, I would think).

So we can negotiate tops and bottoms. That's cool. I can handle that. But the lady has very strong feelings about her footwear. She won't negotiate. She has lots of shoes, too (don't judge me...) so there's really no way to predict what will be acceptable. The shoes are in a bin in the closet, making them very easy to put away at the end of the day, but also making them very accessible in the mornings. And the socks are right there in the side pocket of the hanging thing (just go with me on this one) so I can grab a pair quickly.

This morning, we successfully got everyone dressed with very little discussion. This is a victory, because I really haven't mastered the necessary technique for wrestling an angry wombat into a pair of little jeans. I pulled out her very cool Snoopy New Balance Sneakers and she lost her freaking mind. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO" *stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp throw self down on floor* (seriously, I'm going to video the next time she does this and submit it to the Academy for their consideration in the Best Performance By a Toddler Who Does Not Want To Wear The Snoopy Shoes category).

So I pause, and envision where this fits in the Grand Scheme of Things.

"OK. Come pick your shoes and socks." And it's like I'm her Fairy Godmother and I just bibbidy-bobbidy-boo'd her a fancy pumpkin coach. She wipes her hair out of her eyes, takes a moment to compose herself, and with much gusto and aplomb, announces her selections as she makes them. "PINK SHOES YAY! WED TOCKS! YAY!"

Yay, indeed.