Loss of Innocence?

Another installment by Parent Pill contributor Sue Thomson - I'm sure a lot of you can relate to this. I know I can!

Sometimes I start to mourn the loss of innocence in my daughters. They are ages ten, eight and six and are fighting so desperately to be teenagers that it scares me. Finding clothes that are appropriate for them, and don’t drive me directly into bankruptcy (Or a straight jacket) is akin to walking on water.

My oldest has decided she likes clothes. For the first seven years of her life she could have cared less, and I complained. Fool. I had no idea how good I had it. Abercrombie and Fitch? Aeropostale? Hollister? Now her clothes are supposed to match, be so thin that you have to wear two or three shirts to ensure coverage, and if at all possible have a message that says you hate your brother, school, or surprisingly are ‘going green.’

So I hope that by the time my girls have cleavage, the ‘preppy’ look has come back. Not the pseudo preppy, - plaid short shorts or itty bitty pink and green bikinis with a whale on them. I mean full blown classic 80’s preppy. The real layered look. A turtleneck, then an oxford button-down shirt and then a nice wholesome sweater. If you are really cool they ALL have an alligator on them. A nice pair of jeans, no holes, or maybe khakis, that are cinched AT the WAIST with a darling hand stitched belt that declares your love of turtles, rainbows, dogs, or whatever. I do not recall any pink skull and crossbones. I could be wrong. If you aren’t one to do all of this planning, maybe Sears could bring back their Garanimals line. Sure made my mother’s life easy.

The other thing I don’t get is the desire to show the undergarments. My nieces and their friends recently started wearing bras. I know this because I can see the straps, tangled in the forty someodd straps of their twenty layers of tanktops that still somehow barely cover their chests. Me? My mother sat on me until she wrestled me into a bra. Nothing from Victoria Secret, but a white ‘thanks Nana’ BRA. And I didn’t WANT anyone to know I was wearing one! Thanks goodness for all of my layers. The thong I will never get, don’t want to get, and hope the surgeon general finds something wrong with them before my oldest decides she wants them. My husband is still reeling from the pierced ears. I am not sure he could handle that one.

Now I know this is only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to things I will have to deal with when bringing up three girls. But I will start with the small hurdles and work my way up to the big ones. Maybe by the time they are dating abstinence will be the new cool thing. And not just for the Jonas Brothers.

A mom can hope can’t she?