Change. Don’t we all just love change?
Well, okay, must of us don’t really care much for it. We like our comfortable, established routines. We like seeing the same friendly faces. We enjoy haunting our favorite restaurants and such places.
But how about clothing?
Granted, we have our favorite worn-in jeans and soft shirts. We enjoy comfortable shoes. But do we really fear change so much that we cling to clothing that no longer fits? Too-small sneakers that pinch our toes or shirts that cling spandex-like to our bodies or pants that one needs to be poured into?
No. No, I can’t say most of us care for that at all.
And yet, there are those who dislike change so much – and grow sentimentally attached to familiar things – that they resist wearing new shoes (that actually fit) in favor of the old. Who cling to tight, outgrown clothing simply because it is familiar.
Sometimes it’s a challenge helping our Asperger kids adjust to the woes of growing. In addition to the regular pre-teen responsibilities and new sense of individualism. In addition to the social challenges, meltdowns, teacher-student relations and all of those other pressing issues. Anyway…
We’re at that point again, where too-small shirts are being moved to the pajama drawer (because our son can’t quite bear to part with them yet). We’re watching the favored shoes deteriorate in front of our eyes, as the new ones sit shining, unused (and taunting us), on a shelf. Previous pajama shirts (the previous too-small batch) are being quietly funneled into a Goodwill pile (shhh, don’t tell).
I know this isn’t new to any parent out there. And it does have a certain humor value. Parents, defeated once again by old shoes and small shirts. Yes, we conquer daily traffic jams, we surmount obstacles at work, we single-handedly master many-headed monsters… but the wicked, evil, cunning old clothes win the day. And the shoes. Don’t forget those grimy shoes and their nasty smirk.
And I know they smirk at me when I’m not looking.
Recently, however, we came up with a plan. We declared the old shoes “hiking shoes”. Re-defined, they have a new reason for existing and are “safe” from interfering parents. The new shoes (which will one day turn against us) have been taken down from their resting place and declared comfortable enough to wear to school.
For now, we have survived the evil of Change. We have the upper hand.
But it’s temporary. It always is. We live to fight again another day, but on that day our leather and cloth friends will turn against us in a tide of tight pants, clingy shirts, and dirty, falling-apart shoes.
Good luck out there. It’s a jungle.