Shopping was fun, but not really. We pored the kid into 26W she SWORE that they weren't too tight, but they looked like they were. I made her sit down to show me that she wasn't going to severe any part of her anatomy when she bent at the waist. She passed that test. And because it was her money and she's 13 and I'm only the shopping mom, not the real mom, I let her get them.
I did mention, gently, that they looked tight. And I explained how amazed I always was when one day my clothes feel great and the next day they don't and how 5 pounds make a huge difference. Lesson stated minus the preachiness...I hope.
No luck with the polos. Another shopping trip on Thursday.
She really did have no idea of what size she was. She'd reach for a men's XL and say they run small. She'd grab a size 18 and say that they don't make pants very stretchy. At one point, I simply said, "That's not the size you wear. You're bigger than that." I would have killed myself if someone said that to me when I was 13. But what else was I supposed to do?
A few more trips down the aisles and a couple of more pulls from the wrong sizes later, I told her "These are not your sizes. We need to go back to that other area. You can buy clothes that are tight or don't quite fit, but I think you'll be wasting your money."
Now that she understood. When the focus was put on money, not size, it was easier to steer her to where she needed to look. Whatever it takes, right?
Thanks for the replies and emails to my last post. They may not help the kid, but they help me.
This situation has dug up some former fatty guilt for me...something I haven't really felt in a while. I feel kind of two-faced in this situation. Survivor's guilt.