On children and shopping...

I’m not such a clothes person. I wish I was, but if I’m honest, I’m way too indecisive and ADHD to really embrace the whole “shopping” experience. If I could outsource the whole ordeal, I probably would.

There is one thing worse than shopping for myself – and that is taking my girls shopping.

My youngest daughter could peruse the stores for hours, my eldest daughter literally has to bribed by skipping school.

A shopping expedition requires copious amounts of coffee, and if I didn’t have to drive I’d probably be drinking something a whole lot stronger.

Alas, We have my sons barmitzvah in a few weeks, and well, my kids need clothes.

I have a vision of how I want them to look. I like artsy and hippie, I like blues and browns; my girls are not on board with this vision.

They want sparkly and frilly and fluffy and pink. I do not get this language – try as I may.

Jordi thinks she needs ten pairs of shoes. She wants stockings and head bands and things that just thinking about them, gives me a sensory reaction.

Eden just wants to sparkle. But she does not want anything that may be too tight, too itchy, too scratchy, too high, too low. She also has zero desire to try anything on, and she believes her shoes from 5 years ago would absolutely fit.

Yet here we are, me and girls traipsing through the streets of Israel (A shopping commentary for another time)

And I’m watching these two, as their style and flair and way of navigating the world keeps teaching me more and more about letting things go.

I want so much to convince them that the stylish little dress with the boots “I like’ will look amazing… but I step back, knowing that if I cant teach them to trust themselves with their outer style, how will they ever trust themselves with the inner workings of their hearts?

But this is work on my behalf… and it doesn’t come easily.

In that moment Eden grabs a very very sparkly dress from the rack, its three shades of pink with strange bows on the sleeves. She is even willing to try it on.

I’m gagging in my head, this isn’t what I had in mind.

She comes out exuberant

“I love it mom, I love it! I look just like an ice cream!”

Yes, you do baby girl. Yes, you do!