My girls both had on matching pajamas. I didn't dress them. I didn't tell them what to wear. It just happened.
When I was pregnant with my first child, I asked for pajamas. I wanted super cute pajamas for my baby to lay around in. Everything was GOING TO BE PERFECT. My mom told me that my son would probably live in a Onesie and if he wore pajamas, they'd probably not match. I was AGHAST. When I shared that conversation with co workers, I expected them to have my back, and to a person - every single lady laughed.
Honestly? One even cackled.
"When you have your baby, you'll seeeeee! It all goes out the window!" she crowed gleefully. To be fair to me, it took a lot longer for me to lose that dream - I still like the look of cute pajamas. No one else in my family gives a fig about it though.
These days, I could not possibly care less what you wear to bed - as long as you aren't naked and you, you know, GO TO BED. After all, matching pajamas may look good, but they don't mean that you are a good human being.
Other things matter more to me now.
The ability to argue a point without alienating the opponent - and getting your point across without being offensive - well, that matters a whole heck of a lot to me.
Advocating for yourself - whether it be your food allergies, your asthma, your desire to eat something that is healthy or tastes good to you but is not "popular" or mainstream - that matters to me. Standing up for another person - when it is safe for you to do so and not when it isn't - that matters as well.
Education, and the desire to learn - that matters. Learning for the sake of learning, and not because you are required to do so - that matters too. I want my children to desire to better themselves even if no one is standing over them, demanding that they learn the times tables and the capital of Belize and how, exactly, electricity occurs. I want them to read for pleasure - that matters too.
Doing the best you can absolutely matters. I want my kids to take pride in their work, in the sides that they show the public, in the image that they project. I want them to understand that the Internet is forever, Twitter is searchable, your profile is your public image, no one has 900 friends - and I do not want them to have to learn some of the lessons that I did - the hard way.
Those are the lessons that matter. Things that I used to think matter? They just flat out don't, in this journey I am on towards growing functional, contributing adults.
And how many of us realize that - that we are raising adults? Most people are wrapped up in the smart mouthed kid, the crying baby, the recalcitrant teen - but those are stages in raising adults.
I disagreed with someone last week about organic foods. Yes, I know that
they are important. What we eat matters. But if it comes down to eating
as much fruit and veg as we do - and needing to cut it in half if we
have to eat all organic - well, organic matters less and we just have to
deal with it. Organic was a big bugaboo when I had one teeny tiny -
now, when I'm feeding 8 or more, well, different strokes for different
If my kid drank organic milk after nursing 3 years, only wore organic cotton diapers handstitched by freed women from Uganda, slept with me until s/he was 5, was never vaccinated, didn't play with weapons, went to a Friends School, was allowed to grow his hair into dreadlocks, and never made to do anything he or she didn't want to do -
it wouldn't make my kid(s) any better. Because I did some of those things and I didn't do some of those thigns, and I did the best I could. Some days, doing the best I can is good enough. And some days it's not.
But, much like my desire for everyone to wear those stupid matching pajamas, it's often a pipe dream.