How to Ruin Shopping for the Tonjinator

As a child, I was coached and guided by my mother, stepfather, and father in the matter of shopping.  Clothes, shoes, handbags, cars, and houses -- They made sure I'd seen or done it all in terms of Making the Deal.  And, I LOVED every minute of it.

My father lived across country near San Francisco, and when I was a teenager, I would fly to visit him and he'd take me into the city to shop for school clothes. The Nordstrom at the Westfield San Francisco Center and/or the Macy's at Union Square in San Francisco are still two of my favorite places in the universe, because I can always find fashions there that I can't find at home.  I'd take an empty suitcase with me when I'd visit, and return with my new wardrobe. The arts of shopping and making the deal brought me tremendous joy for many years.  Until today, that is.

The public schools in our little burg start again in about 10 days, which means back to school preparation shifted into high gear this week.  Earlier in the week, we headed to Target, or as Olivia liked to call it when she was a toddler, the "Red Ball" store because of the giant red concrete balls out front.  We did not exit the Red Ball store until ALL school supplies were in the cart.  Upon our return home, we labeled the appropriate items and packed the backpacks.

Today's agenda included haircuts for the girls and shopping for school clothes.  What soon became the Tonjinator's descent into hell began with this seemingly innocent statement from nine-year-old Olivia as we drove 30 miles to one of the area's major shopping centers for two new outfits (I tried to stick to it, really and truly) each and shoes:

"No glitter, sequins, or beads this year.  No pink.  No skirts and no dresses.  I only want athletic shorts and t-shirts. I will not even walk into Justice."

Are you effing kidding me?  Justice has been the mainstay for the last 3 years.  And, from the time the brown-eyed beauty was born, I prided myself in dressing her beautifully.  The ensembles had to be JUST SO.  If the corduroy jumper was blue, then the maryjanes must be navy (which actually works better than brown in many cases).  Running shoes AND athleisure shoes are necessary (I know they really aren't, but it is nice to have options, no?).  Styling these children was a matter of pride for me.  The Tonj -- he of the skinny dark jeans and charcoal or black cashmere or sport shirts for casual attire -- was sometimes unhappy about the cost, but he knew his children would be dressed appropriately for church, school, sport and holiday functions.

We ventured into the mall, where we headed immediately to The Children's Place because all standard jeans were $10 today (WINNING).  Olivia's jeans are still in pretty good shape, so she declined.  I knew Sophie's were looking pretty shabby, and found two pairs in quick order, plus a cute little plaid schoolgirl skirt and top -- Paid the bill and out the door.

I asked Olivia what store she wanted to go to, and she said Abercrombie, which is the kids' version of A&F.  This mall did not have one, so we went to the GAP.  It's one of my favorites, and they were playing awesome music and I was singing along.  Nearly every item of clothing was summarily dismissed because it had some sequins on it.  Then, Olivia asked if she could shop in the BOYS CLOTHES.

Be still my heart.  My baby doesn't want to wear girls' clothes?

I was SO not enjoying myself.  After a brief pause to regain my composure, I told her yes. Olivia chose a kelly green zipfront, heavyweight fleece hoodie, with GAP in navy block letters on it.  Using my masterful negotiating skill, I managed to talk her down to the charcoal grey with red letters variation.  I found some cute denim short overalls in sizes to fit both girls (Olivia approved them), a Hello Kitty hoodie for Sophie, and a few tank tops for layering, and we got out of there.

Next we headed to our usual stop for cool athletic shoes.  Olivia chose a pair of brightly colored leather, high top tennis shoes, similar in style to those seen in hip-hop music videos.  I hated them, I knew the Tonj would HATE them, and I explained that "Daddy might think a standard running shoe was better."  Grumbling ensued, but I was firm, and she told me okay.  Sophie didn't see anything she liked, so we left that store.

Then, we be-bopped into Gymboree, where I thought we might find Sophie's second outfit, as I'd always been able to find cute school clothes in there for both girls previously.  This is where the day took its turn for the worst.  As we entered the store, Olivia bellowed, at the top of her lungs:

"This place is awful.  Everything in here is DORKY."

Oh sweet Jesus.  People, including the store's staff stared, and Sophie said, "I don't want anything in here."  I grabbed both children and scrambled back into the mall.

Kind of like the vampires in Twilight.

In the distance, I spotted a Finish Line.  The Tonjinator hopefully declared, "We'll find new athletic shoes there!"  Approaching the wall, I spotted the shoes Olivia would want:  Blackout Nike Air Jordans. Not for MY nine-year-old, thank you. Furtive iMessages flew to the Tonj about the debacle of our eldest wanting to dress like a hooligan, and his answer:  "Can't you talk her down?"  So, I did just that.  I guided her gently toward cool grey and hot pink Reeboks - two versions - and she tried both.  Asked her if she wanted some All-Stars, and was refused.  Sophie got a pair of All Stars and a more traditional pair of running shoes.  Out the door we went.

Headed 15 miles back toward home DURING RUSH HOUR to the area's other major shopping center, which reminds me of Fashion Island in Newport Beach, California (my father took me there when I was a senior in high school).  Abercrombie, here we come!  This hot pink t-shirt is really cute, Liv!  NO!  What about this top?  OK!  They were having a sale, thankfully, and she found several items which fit our --I mean -- HER needs.  Thank heaven, we were in the home stretch.

Final stop:  This shopping center's Gymboree which is laid out a little differently than the one we'd been in earlier.  At this point, Sophie decided to beg to go to Build-A-Bear.  And, by "beg," I mean, whine and moan like the world was coming to an end.  Found another little school girl outfit, and got the hell out of there as fast as I could.

And we didn't go to Build-A-Bear.

That's what I thought.

And, we came home, where I remembered Karrie, the BFF's mom, had mentioned at the pool yesterday that Rylee is "done with hair accesssories, skirts, dresses and preppy clothes.  She only wants to wear athletic shorts and t-shirts."  Again, furtive texting ensued.

And Karrie is just as devastated as I am.  But, at least I have Sophie, as a life size doll to dress, until she too gets a mind of her own.

And my world did not come to an end.  But my heart broke a little that my firstborn has gotten a mind of her own.