When she was a little baby I loved to dress myself the same as I dressed her. Accidentally on purpose. A way to connect to her more than I already did (read: boobs). But things changed.
The older she got the more personality got into that little body. Now she’s almost three and all she wants to wear are flared dresses and skirts. “No mama I can’t twirl in that”. Preferably pink. OR she wants to dress the same as mama. She gets to pick her own clothes. Sometimes. And I often hear her talk to herself “me stripes mama stripes”. After she pulls a stripy shirt (or metallic leggings) out of her closet she opens mine and pulls a lookalike out of there too. We have to wear the same boots. And when I wear my black coat she chooses a black one too.
I thought growing up was about letting go. But let’s just say she’s not ready yet.
J’s metallic leggings from Langkous