I love Pinterest and Instagram. It is inspiring to scroll through beautifully curated images and get ideas for everything from personal style to home decor. Usually, I leave feeling refreshed and inspired. I put down my screen with the urge to put my hair in a top knot and tackle the world.
But you know who doesn't care for the authentic northwestern blankets and tiny muted cream sweaters I've been pinning? My children. They don't seem to appreciate the perfectly 'gramable' picnic I've set up, complete with a vase of flowers that they have to maneuver around. They don't ever seem to care for the perfect thrifted wooden toys and Native American inspired rugs I put in their room. They don't seem to share my taste in leather moccasins and perfectly distressed Gap kids denim. You know what my kids love? Bright green Crocs. Plastic pink barrettes. Tacky Tow Mater t shirts. They love the pink princess tent grandma got them for Christmas that clashes with Mama's perfectly neutral with pops of color decor on her "kids rooms" Pinterest board. My son favors elastic waisted grandpa pants over the skinny black jeans mama laid out for him to wear.
Don't get me wrong. Chubby toddlers in skinny jeans make my heart sing. Seeing my sweet daughter's silhouette when her hair is piled high on her head makes me so happy. Walking into a peaceful room without having to look at gaudy plastic toys is my dream. But after a few years of fighting it, this mama had to let go. I had to let go of my expectations for perfectly curated kids and let them decide who they want to be. I have to remind myself every day to let them love the color and the sparkles and the elastic jeans. Back in the winter, I had the perfect pair of leather bean boots picked out for my four year old. I had visions of flannel and top knots dancing in my head. But after crying and pleading, we left Nordstrom Rack with sparkly pink high tops. I'm still mourning the loss of those bean boots.