So Stork wanted to know about the battle of the shirt. Since I dressed the top half of my daughter three days this week in the parking lot of her daycare, I decided it was time to dish.
Being slightly over the age of two, MAM is entitled to be particular. I understand that. I understand her need to get her own night time pull up, to search for one with a “green dragon” (DragonTales pull ups, you see), to put it on by herself. I understand her need in the morning to take it off and trash it by herself. I understand her need to do a lot of things.
I don’t understand her aversion to getting dressed. Oh she doesn’t mind getting her panties shorts on each day. It’s the shirt she refuses. It’s her arms that she locks down on her sides. Short of cutting off her pajama top, I don’t know how to make it her give. So I don’t.
I toss her her shirt, which she most likely tosses aside as she plays with her toys while I get things ready for the day. As we prepare to leave the house, I mention her shirt one more time. Sometimes she decides that it’s a good time to get dressed. Sometimes she doesn’t.
I know I could press the issue, but I really don’t like starting my day that way. So we make our way to daycare, where I once again offer her the shirt. And she looks at it like she hasn’t even seen it before, like why didn’t I show it to her sooner? Why did I let her leave the house half dressed? And she happily puts on her shirt in the parking lot.
This too is just a phase, right?