Dressing My Three Sons

Yesterday, I told Eli that he needed to get dressed, which he did... in Caleb's clothing. Sure, he had a tough time walking in Caleb's pants, but that wasn't about to stop him. Size, or any other consideration (temperature) for that matter, doesn't seem to factor into Eli's clothing choices. For a two year old, and a boy no less, he has some awfully strong opinions about the clothing he wears. For the better half of the summer and fall all he would wear were swim trunks and the most garishly mismatched - think stripes on tie-dye, or Hawaiian print on plaid - top he could find. The ensemble was often finished off with knee-high rain boots. It doesn't help that the Professor, who usually dresses him when I am at class in the morning, doesn't really care what he looks like as long as he's covered. But even when the Professor or I do tackle him before he dresses himself in the morning, that's not often what he stays in. The frustrating thing about Eli is that he really has no qualms about changing his own clothes and frequently does. I will often find the cast-offs lying discarded all over the house. It's a rare occasion that he makes it through the day only having worn as few as three outfits.

Enter Caleb, who is so careful to match his clothing that he often wears just one color, and who would probably wear the same outfit all month long. The Professor started complaining that Caleb's fashion preferences seemed to tend toward Goth. Those of you with children will know that white is not a popular clothing color, because of course, even bleach has it's limits. And, being a boy, Caleb's wardrobe isn't exactly filled with frothy pinks, or purples. Dark colored clothing is a must around here.

Last of all is Isaac, who doesn't really seem to care what he wears as long as his shirts are three sizes too large, and his pants stay up. That's trickier than it sounds, actually. Isaac's legs are long enough that I had to move up a size even though the smaller size still was big around his waist. Slims are a little better since there's less to cinch up.

Recently, I resigned myself to the fact that intervention was necessary. I never wanted to be one of those mothers who dresses their children once they could dress themselves. But, for the past week, I've been setting out the boys' clothing with shoes and socks the night before. I try to respect their preferences, but I have the ultimate veto power, and doing it this way circumvents dramatic fits, or outrageous delays - how long can it possibly take to pull a shirt over your head, really? - that result if ever the boys are asked to change.

So far, so good. Kids have been on time to school in the morning. Reports from teachers are that the boys even seem to be having fewer frustrations at school and are able to focus better. I feel like a good mom because everything runs smoothly. Now my only concern is that should I ever forget to turn the world on it's axis, it may very well stop and Armageddon will be upon us.