Poor Greyson

Our friend Leslie stopped by with lunch last week.  The food was delicious, and we loved catching up with Leslie.  She has two sons, Greyson and Asher.  We got to spend a couple of hours with Asher (so cute he gives Jude a run for his money), but Greyson was at pre-school and so we missed him.   Ella and Greyson have been pals since their babyhood, and they are quite fond of each other; as a result, Ella has genuine concern for Greyson's welfare.  She overheard an innocent conversation that Leslie and I were having and became a little troubled.  

At lunch, Leslie commented that I always give my kids options (e.g. Virginia, would you like a spoon or a fork?)  She said that she also tries to give Greyson options.  When he dresses in the morning, she offers him two outfits, but he always chooses a third outfit, one that she has not offered.  Her scenario is not an uncommon one for parents of pre-schoolers, but it sure can be exasperating.  

According to Ella, it's parents who are exasperating.  When Leslie and Asher left, Ella sat me down for a serious talk.  

Ella:  I feel so sorry for Greyson.

Cathleen:  Why on earth?

Ella:  He should be able to wear what he wants to.  Why does Leslie give him choices?  Why doesn't she just let him wear what he wants to?  I mean I just don't understand why adults have to control everything.  Why can't kids make their own choices about clothes?  

I wonder if Ella is trying to send me a message.   She's always had a bit of a flair to her style, and I love her style.  Nevertheless, I sometimes encourage her to coordinate her ensemble (for the sake of confidence in her teenage years).  But Ella is a strong willed child, one whose decision to wear at the same time a shirt, dress, pants, and tights is a moral imperative.   When I've mentioned before that she might want to reconsider an outfit before we venture out, she's replied, "I know this doesn't match, mom.  I don't want to match.  I  just want to wear things that I like, because I like them."  

Okay, okay.  I don't want to stifle her creativity.  But what worries me is that she's only four years old, and we're already having these conversations.   Yikes.

And for the record, Greyson's mom is way more open minded than I am.  Poor Ella.