Rex, Rocky, Vivi, and Billy                                                                            

"No, I Don't Wanna Wear That!"

"No, I Don't Wanna Wear That!"

Um, I’m sorry, what did you say? It is the phrase I have been dreading since Rex was born.  All the other "I'm mad at you"  and "I hate you" typa shiz I can deal with.  But this. NO.

But really, I love to dress my dudes.  I am usually in unwashed yoga pants and some salt-stained sneakers, but my guys know how to rock an outfit.  Now I am not saying that we don’t spend our fair share of days in pajamas, or that I don’t let Matt dress them in weird oversized Nike gear when he has a "buddy" (his word, not mine. #blessed) over---but when we have somewhere special to go you can find my little boyfriends in some prettayyyy skinny jeans, fringed footwear, and some other wannabe trendy stuff.  Poor Rex has been living the dream for almost three years now.

There have been some questionable fashion moments for sure.  Lucky for Rocky I did not have enough energy the second time around to make him endure the themed holiday photoshoots that I put Rex through.  Whatever, they will make for good yearbook pics someday. (And yes, those are hot pink girls pants.  And no, I did not buy them before I found out I was having a boy.)

Up until now he has been my little muse.  Tight white leggings on his little man thighs? Check.  Tiny parrot man-boy speedo swim trunks? Yup. Gold shimmer leggings for his first birthday party?  You betcha!  The list goes on...

But yesterday, he was wearing a harmless pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt.  We were on the way out the door and I tried to put a red Patagonia (Patagucci) vest on him.  “NO! I do NOT wanna wear this!”  Uhhhhhh, what?  “No, no, Rex. It’s cold outside, you need to wear it.”  “NO! I don’t like it!”  “Well, I’m sorry.  But Mommy says that you have to wear this, so you need to put it on.”  “NO! I wont!”  Stomping. Crying. Yelling. Bye.

Time stopped. This couldn’t be happening.  He's not even three! I thought I had a least another half a year or so before he pulled this shit!   And of all things---the vest?! I mean if he doesn’t like his cool red vest anymore how do you think he is going to feel about the new teal nut-hugging shorts with matching salmon tank top that I just bought him for spring?!  Whatever.  It’s a one-time weird thing.  “Fine, you don’t need to wear the vest.”

This morning I was getting him dressed before Matt brought him to his Nana’s house.  He slept in a ninja turtle t-shirt that didn’t look dirty so I decided to just keep that on (shut up), changed his pants, and went to put on an adorable blue sweater.  “NO! I don’t want that sweater!” ---long pause---“I want my ‘inga tootle shirt!” Ohhhhhh, snap.  It wasn’t just the vest.  This MOFO is getting his own opinions on fashion.  This could be game over. I started having visions of Mickey Mouse T-Shirts and Paw Patrol light up shoes. No. I must stop this.  “Rex, it’s too cold, you need to put this sweater on.” “NO! I don’t want it! NO!”---crying.  “Rex, you can have some m&m’s if you put the sweater on.”  YEAH.  I went there.  It’s 7:30am and the first thing my kid will eat today are bribery m&m’s.  BITE ME.  “Ok!”  Cute, adorable sweater ON.  That's one check in the win column for today, folks.

I grab Rocky and put my little nonverbal bundle of joy in a shawl-collared grey and red sweater, tight leggings with cute little airplanes on them, and some teal booties.  I pack a bag for Rex and head downstairs to say goodbye to him before he leaves.  Then I see him.  He is in the corner of the room, truck in hand, covered in multi-colored m&m spit-slime.  All over his face, dripping off of his chin and ALL over the sweater.  Well, ya know what---touche, bro.  I deserved this.  Guess it wasn't a win after all.  Straight into the laundry went the sweater, and off went Rexxy—very happy and pumped with sugar, in his mothaeffin ‘inga tootle shirt. Whatever, I'm not giving up yet!

What "Getting Ready" Looks Like Now

What "Getting Ready" Looks Like Now

But It's In The Middle Of The Night

But It's In The Middle Of The Night