I Said I Would Never ...

When I found out I was indeed pregnant with a little boy, the first thing I went out and purchased was a set of blue overalls with a floppy-eared brown dog on them. Little boys and dogs just go together in my mind. It's like they were made for each other.

I also made up my mind that one sunny late summer day that I would not dress my little boy head to toe in monster truck shirts. Dogs were OK in my mind, but I had to draw the line somewhere. To me it was so very cliche'. My boy would be stylin' in cute polo shirts and cargo pants. Just because you're 2 doesn't mean you can't have style. No truck shirts here. Or Elmo. Or Winnie the Pooh.

If you're a mother and you're reading this, you probably just snickered. For you know all too well the "I never" zone. The "I never" that applies to that wonderful dreamworld of how you imagine your life with your first child will be. Then your child arrives and you snap back into reality. And then you understand.

Back in the day, before little man arrived, I used to see other mother's out with their children and wonder why they had dressed their child in that. Although I knew children liked such things as Elmo and monster trucks, I didn't understand why the children needed to wear them. It just seemed too easy for me. A cop out.

Now, I am one of those mothers. I understand.

Although I was determined to have little man be the epitome of preschool style, I did come crashing down to reality. Little boys love trucks. They want to wear them. They must wear them.

I once again came crashing down to reality via this realization last week. Fall has definitely come to Kansas and little man and I awoke to a cold, rainy morning. It was definitely a day for long-sleeved shirts and jeans.

But, there were no long-sleeved truck shirts. Just stylish stripes and polos.

Hell hath no fury like little man with no truck shirt to wear.

I had long ago acquiesced to the fact that little man loves truck shirts. (And by truck, I do mean any shirt with a motorized vehicle on it, be it a truck, car, tractor, etc.) His summer wardrobe included a vast array of truck shirts. However I had not yet stocked up for the fall and winter. There were no long-sleeved truck shirts.

"I want truck shirt!" little man proclaimed that cold, rainy morning.

I dug through his closet, trying to find something. However, each item did not satisfy little man's request. He needed a truck shirt.

And then the meltdown came.

I grabbed a shirt and quickly dressed him. But little man's heart was broken.

"Truck shirt," little man whimpered in his sad little way. "I want truck shirt."

All I could do was hug little man and assure him that he would be OK not wearing a truck shirt for one day. But his eyes told a different story. He didn't care about style. He cared about trucks.

And although little man did survive his day with no truck shirt, the disappointment still lingered that evening. He also reminded me the entire way home that he was not happy about not having on a truck shirt.

That is, until mommy pulled out a clean pair of truck jammies.

Then all was was right in the world, again.