Darned if I do, darned if I don't

There are so many times when I am reminded that I have a household full of daughters and not sons. For instance, I'm sure all-boy households don't have a separate load of laundry dedicated to just pink clothes, or a full video library of Barbie movies.

I'm positive the fighting in my house is different, too, since I only have girls, but so is the playing. I don't have kids wrestling and punching, but I do have pinching and hair pulling. I don't have indoor football or video games, but I have pretend "school" and "hair salon."

I'm not complaining, as obviously, after all these years, this is what I'm used to and at this point I would prefer it. There are just some things that happen that I don't prefer, and always think to myself that only mothers with daughters must deal with this.

The issue I'm referring to is what my older girls pick out to wear each day. When they were little, I picked out their outfits and rarely did they object or care, and if they did, I would just give them a couple options or simply put my foot down. That was the end of it, no big deal. I was glad when the day came, though, where I could trust them to pick out their own clothes without looking ridiculous. The day when they figured out that solid red pants matched with an all red shirt isn't a good fashion choice, meant my job was pretty much done in that area. My only "job" these days is to make sure they're dressed age-appropriate and that nothing's too tight, too short, has stains or has holes in the knees!

They both still ask for my help, but now they basically just want my opinion, not for me to do the choosing. I like that I have moved into that role, but I didn't realize the lumps I would take for sharing my opinion.

Ya see, what I figured out was, subconsciously, the girls really don't want my opinion. They just want to know what NOT to wear, so that's why they ask me. When they ask for my opinion on their daily clothing choices, I've learned to expect that they will most likely not agree with me and wear what they originally had picked out anyways.

If they give in and wear what I suggested, then they will be mad at me the rest of the day and complain of random things, like the shirt is too itchy, or the pants are too short, and whatever else they can make up to whine about. Now, if I refuse to give my opinion or say "I don't care. Wear whatever you want," they also get mad at me. I can't win, no matter what. For reasons unbeknownst to me, I am to blame for all their clothing issues.

Not their dad or their sisters, but me. I'm almost positive that only happens in my house full of girls. There is NO way a mother of just sons, ever has to stand there in front of their kids' closet arguing for ten minutes over if they should wear the skinny jeans with flats or skinny jeans with boots.

Like I said, I try to bow out and tell them that whatever they choose will be great, but then they're mad at me for not helping them. They tell me, "You're just saying that you don't care but you really do." Then I reply, "No. I really DON'T care and I think you'll look cute in either outfit. Pick whatever is comfortable." Which then they usually fire back, "Well, if I wear what's comfortable, then I might as well pick out a whole new outfit!" And then the volcano erupts and everyone is mad, including me. Morning ruined.

It's really ridiculous how much time my daughters and I waste arguing over an issue that really isn't an issue. Believe me, I really try to escape the argument, but I can't. It even happens with their hair and shoes too. If they ask my opinion on ponytail or wear it down, or curly or straight, they just do the opposite of what I suggest. If they ask flip flops or sandals, or boots or tennis shoes, and they choose the opposite of my opinion, it still somehow ends up being my fault that their feet hurt by the end of the day.

I don't know if this issue will ever go away and may be just the way it is when you're blessed with all girls, but I'm in a losing battle. Can't win for losing, no-win situation, whatever you want to call it, but I'm certainly darned if I do, and darned if I don't.