It is that time again. The clothes you were pretty sure would fit your kid a few weeks ago are now a fashion statement and that statement is “Giraffe wearing pants meant for a capybara.” Their jeans can only generously be called Capri shorts if you squint. Cute sundresses can maybe work as cute tops. And how did the kid manage to put holes in the one pair of pants that actually fit? To add insult to injury, the only clothes that might fit are for a completely wrong season.
It’s time. You know it is time—despite the dread that creeps into your soul as you remember the migration of last year that led to no less than three tantrums over trying on clothes they say fit but you know don’t. I get it. I see you.
So, you go to your storage closet or local clothing store of choice and find things that actually fit and are appropriate for 90-degree weather. But first, you really need to sort through what they have already and figure out what they actually need. That is the real trial here: the gathering of laundry from the far reaches of the house and going through it a piece at a time to determine if a younger sibling could wear it, if it’s destined for the thrift store, or doomed to the city dump.
Here is where things start to go awry for me and my kids. MMA cage matches have nothing on a little girl whose younger sister has claimed her favorite shirt that is now two sizes too small for her to wear.
Kids from hard places, adopted from foster care or with traumatic early development may have an added layer of dislike to this whole process.
My older kids came to us with only the clothing on their backs more or less, and everything was too small, ripped, or the wrong season. They were used to lacking things. We supplied them with everything they needed: new clothes, shoes, bedding, toys, everything. Like you do for your kids, when our kids’ realized they were in a safe place to grow, they grew quickly. Soon the clothes we gave them didn’t fit anymore. We got new clothes and shoes for them. No problem—until I tried to make room in their dresser by taking out the things that were too small. The struggle was real.
What I wish I had done was give them a box to keep things in that they’d like to hold on to for memory’s sake. Then, it would stay theirs and they wouldn’t feel like things were taken from them. What I did was wait until they were at school and donate the things that were too small.
That caused problems.
When the girls were old enough to participate in the hand-me-down situation, I had figured out that getting rid of things they wanted to keep, even if it was silly to me, wasn’t a good call. So, we had conversations. We picked out special things that were just theirs to keep or get rid of as they wanted.
What I hadn’t anticipated was how angry one of my daughters would be when she saw her younger sisters wearing a dress that she loved but no longer could fit into. The screaming, the tears, it was a lot. She was ok with it no longer being hers if it left the house, but seeing her sisters wear it was not ok in her eyes. Which, would probably have been ok if her younger sisters had different taste in clothing. They did not.
As the kids get older, we are more able to reason with them and they are more able to be gracious about sharing. But, we still need to allow for them to keep a few things that don’t fit them so they don’t feel like they are losing things that are important to them. Balancing their mental health against my budget and storage space is a tricky thing. There are only so many too-small dresses we can store before it starts to feel like we’re living in a storage unit (especially because just knowing the clothes are still in the house isn’t enough, they need to be able to find it if they want to look at it).
And I get it. It had to have been difficult to move from place to place never knowing if your favorite t-shirt would end up at the next house. I understand their anxiety about potential loss. And I understand how boring sorting through clothes is. Weird textures feel odd on their skin; so, trying on different things can turn into sensory overload. I hated trying on clothes as a kid. I don’t love it as an adult.
A friend who grew up in foster care shared something with me that helped me wrap my mind around some of the struggles. I had posted on Facebook that my kid was wearing his winter coat everywhere and it was late spring and very warm out. She told me that she had a coat that was like her security blanket. It reminded her she had something and she would be safe. She wore it all the time because in her mind that was the only way to make sure she’d get to keep it.
I hate rotating clothing and the drama and time suck it causes. But, I love my kids and I’m glad that despite their best efforts, they have clothes that fit.
