Funny but sad. That was the response from my mom when she read my “Seven Stages of Frustration” post. She’s right. It was funny – at least parts of it were – but it was also sad because I know in my heart that Dylan’s anxiety over pants – and sweatshirts and chicken and foxes and being upside down – is more than a little person should have to handle.
That said, we had a much better morning today. Dylan was willing to wear brown sweatpants to school as long as I rolled them up. We settled on four rolls, which put the pants just below his knees. He looked ridiculous, but in a silly, adorable way. (And by the way, a bowl of popcorn for breakfast was exchanged for the wearing of the pants. I guess he does have a currency when he’s hungry.)
We added his Lightning McQueen long-sleeved t-shirt rolled up to his elbows and finished it off with socks and sneakers. His zip-up sweatshirt (with sleeves pre-rolled) went straight into his backpack. I wasn’t going to push it because the pants alone, even rolled up to his knees, were a small victory.
A very small victory. When we got out of the car at school, Dylan insisted on holding his pants up with his hands because the rolls weren’t high enough. He walked through the parking lot and into school with his pants pulled up above his thighs. From behind, it looked like he was wearing little brown daisy dukes. His shorts, that we said he couldn’t wear, offered more coverage! A few parents and teachers said to me “No luck with the pants this morning?” and I had to tell them, “No, he’s wearing pants. He’s just holding them up with his hands.”
I asked Dylan what he was going to do when he needed his hands to do an art project, climb a ladder on the playground or eat lunch? He had no answer for me, but he was happy. I left him in his classroom, giggling with a friend, holding on tight to his little brown pants above his perfect little pale thighs. Whereas yesterday’s pants fiasco was funny but sad, today’s was just plain funny.
The Runaway Mama by Jen Gregory 