Big Bows and Rufflebutts

This is the level of crazy I reach when the kids are asleep before 9 and the Hubs is away for training.

I have a tomboy.  In her defense, her mama was a tomboy, she has a twin brother, and I don't have the money to even begin to buy these outrageous smocked, over-the-top outfits.  If I get her in a dress without an eyeroll, I feel a huge accomplishment.  As we cleaned out her closet last night, we found a couple of dresses with the tags still on that she has outgrown (you're welcome, Kel).  But I love this strong-willed, tough little girl.  She's opinionated, smart, funny, honest with her feelings, free with her "I love yous" and an all around great kid.

(notice she's the only one paying attention?  she told them to stop dancing. "This is baseball, not ballet.")

Now, born and bred a Southerner, I love cute little kids dressed up, looking adorable.  Heck, my Facebook feed is flooded with nightly auctions from Smockadot Kids and others.  But when I showed a few to Lola to get her opinion...she rolled her eyes and asked "really? do you know me at all?"  These sites specialize in hairbows as big as footballs, rufflepants that look like pajamas, and even pillowcases turned into dresses. And their are thousands of these sites.  When I googled big hairbows, rufflepants, pillowcase dresses, I got more than 1,000,000 hits.  Cha-Ching!  I think I missed my calling in making a quick buck.  Even the company Rufflebutts has turned into a multi-million dollar corporation from covering up diapers.  (go ahead and look, they are ADORABLE.  I'll wait for ya)

It got me thinking (as I'm alienating most of my FB friends), are y'all training those little babies' necks to hold up future Miss Mississippi crowns with those huge bows?  They are adorable, but a little ridiculous.  I'm not talking about an occasional special day outfit.  I'm talking about Every. Single. Day.  And if you think I'm kidding, go play on Etsy.  All of the addresses of those talented mamas are located well below the Mason-Dixon. Maybe y'all are training your little Southern Belles better than I did.  Mine would shout for days even if I brought something smocked near her.  But the real kicker are the boys' outfits.  I guess it's part of the official training manual for parents sending their sons to Ole Miss (there is a manual right?  how else does everyone end up looking and acting the same?)  But I'm shocked that even in small towns I find the matchy-matchy outfits with bows and ruffles and smocked and appliqued everything for trips to the grocery store or to a park (which they are then told not to get dirty).  (Disclaimer: we do own some things like this...but it's rare)

So as I sat here last night...bored listening to music.  I kept thinking about the fact that one of my XM stations keeps playing Sir Mixalot...CONSTANTLY, which means I have to keep changing the channel on the way to tball.  Now, if you know me, you know I write poetry, love music, and change the lyrics to anything to make my kids laugh.  So to the tune of "Baby Got Back" I wrote this:

I like big bows and I cannot lie

Those Rufflebutts can't deny.

When a baby comes in with a christening gown

And a poofy bow above their face

You get smocked, wanna pull out your wallet

Cause you notice that bow was fluffed

Deep in the South, they're wearing

You're hooked and I can stop staring

Oh baby, they dress you

And take your picture

Those onesies aren't so boring

Oh ruffle pant sets

You say you wanna shop again

Well excuse me, excuse me

Cause you gonna run outta of money.

I seen you charging

To hell with Walmarting

She's sweet, a treat.

Got it going on, can't be beat

Tired of shopping malls

Saying plain pants aren't the thing.

Take the average mama and ask her that.

She ain't gonna take long on that.

So mamas (yeah!)

Mamas (yeah!)

Does your baby wear the bows? (Hell yeah!)

Tell 'em to ditch 'em, ditch 'em

Ditch those stupid clothes

Babies Say No!

My apologies to any mamas who dress their sweet babies like this.  Somewhere between being jealous of you and laughing at you, you'll find me shopping at Target, Kohls, and whoever else is on sale.  The military might have a housing allowance, but they don't have a smocking allowance.  And gas ain't cheap.  Besides, my kids are happy with who they are, and that's what all of us what for our kids, no matter what they are wearing.

What the hell, Peter Cottontail?

I ask this question too often... Is it just me?

So, is it just me or have parents lost their minds?  I think the pressure of being the best at everything has officially crossed into new unchartered territory.  It was bound to happen what with Over-Achieving Moms (OAMs) and all.  One of my favorite blogs, PIWTPITT, talks about these OAMs.  They've taken Elf on the Shelf and Leprechaun Traps (making us green with...vomit!) And now....THIS!

http://www.newdimestore.com/blog/

http://www.time2saveworkshops.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/toysrusbasket.png

http://www.squidoo.com/all-about-easter

and

https://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?fbid=10150890503502926&set=at.10150726474082926.500805.811302925.100000290322105&type=1&theater

https://www.facebook.com/#!/photo.php?fbid=10150890500997926&set=at.10150726474082926.500805.811302925.100000290322105&type=1&theater

What the hell? I get inflation, cost-of-living increases, but really?  The Easter Bunny? When did we go from a little chocolate bunny to $100-$300 per basket, albeit fun looking.  I remember thinking a chocolate bunny was awesome, even now I'd go bananas for one right now (should have gone down that sale aisle.  But I don't see how we as parents can even justify a car payments on jelly beans and a basket of crap.

And no offense to my peeps, but I really think this is a Southern thing. Since moving the Jersey, I have no heard a single person in our community speak of $100s on Easter unless it is for a beautiful Easter outfit.  When I mentioned it, the look of shock on the Kindergarten moms' faces said it all.  This is just another reason they think Southerners are nuts.  And, on this, I couldn't agree more. 

I'm not gonna get all preachy, but...uh...lose sight much?  Bigger picture here!  And I ain't talking about chickens and eggs.  Almost all religions, go amendment 1, have a holiday around this time.  And I don't remember studying one (in my many religion classes in college) about bunny and basket worship.

I once had a friend tell me at lunch that she had spent almost $300 on her daughter's Easter basket (and went on to say how tight her budget was going to be for the month...would she be able to buy groceries...etc.) WHAT?!?!?  And I sat there, open-mouthed with my ABC (already been chewed) food-my apologies to my other colleagues.  I couldn't pick my jaw up off the floor, much less finish chewing that bite.

And though I complain/rant/discuss this distrubing trend, I have no quicl fix.  There will always be parents trying to keep up with the Joneses, put others down, or just showing off to feel better about their own parenting.  I have found in my Facebook stalking that people are so busy trying to give their child everything, they never teach them about hard work and earning anything.

Why are we giving them everything?  And don't give me any crap about a better life that they had.  That was our parents' generation.  You do it to earn favor with your kids, to make your friends jealous and to find satisfaction with yourself.

As the mother of 6 year olds, I know all too well how she can too easily equate gift=love.  And how not getting something she wants can tear you down with one look of disappointed and disgust. There is even the phrase of "My daddy will get it for me."  That one used to rip me apart as a mom struggling to maintain order in a post divorce household. 

But I'm the mama.  I'm 35.  You are 6.  I'll make the rules in this house. (I scream on the inside as I drag her dead-weight-temper-tantrum body out of the store as I smile nervously as the other shoppers.  Heck, we've all been there.)

I'm not worried about failing as a parent, not living up to a six year old's version of the world, or giving in to her desire.  Instead, she gets my full attention and my unconditional love, which is way more valuable than a basket of chocolate or monogrammed crap.  And guess what?  It's free!