I've been rather quiet as I have concentrated a lot of efforts on the spring cleaning I really, truly meant to do back...oh...around spring. I've just had some new seasonal disorder...maybe it's seasonal confusion disorder? Seasonal lazy disorder? I'm sure there's a name for it somewhere that transfers at least part of the blame from my shoulders to a medical text book.
So I'm cleaning out closets and shoe baskets/drawers/shelves. The hardest task is the cleaning out of my daughter's closet. It's not particularly messy, but it is particularly young. She is still just 11 but thanks to a growth spurt she now must shop where the girls are.....not 11. Now I could write paragraphs. No. Pages. Pages on dressing for the female crowd. I may sound a bit like my mom....she had to fight the 80s trends of lace (everything), Madonna make-up, and denim mini (MINI) skirts. Poor lady.
Instead, I choose to point out just how difficult cleaning is when a mom knows she must replace the items. Jeans. Skirts. Shirts. Shoes. These are all difficult. Jeans are short inseamed, holey nightmares. Skirts? Well, for one thing, they are a vanishing breed. And if we skip the skirt and go to a dress....well, let's just say I'm not ready to allow a skin display of that grand of a proportion. Shirts? A bit easier - though anyone notice they go between plunging super tight to goth-chick? And shoes. Well, shoes are a bit easier except that heels (of the high/wedge variety) are everywhere. Quite frankly, I'm not ready for anything thicker than an athletic shoe sole.
So I clean. I believe the medical condition I actually had was DENIAL. If the tiny clothes from Gymboree and Justice and Gap Kids stayed put, I wouldn't have to conquer mount abercrombie. Alas, I can see it looming off in the distance in all of it's ridiculousness (remember the year of padded swimsuit tops for the under teen set?) Yet my daughter doesn't deserve to look like a Liz Claiborne ad either.
Denial. It may lead to some head butts. And heads slamming (figuratively) against brick walls. But it's almost time for back-to-school shopping and I must confront the mountain. I will don my sensible shoes and my jeans that don't create a muffin top. I will wear an ordinary T Shirt but maybe some funky accessories. And maybe, just maybe, I won't have to fight the Madonna-like battles with my own daughter.
(Though maybe my mom would say I deserve to fight some of those battles...you know....justice.)