Can You Pass The Tissues? I Have Issues…


Dear Daughter,

I want to begin with an I’m sorry.

I’m sorry.

I wish I could take the whole day back.

I tried to remind God, while pregnant with you, that it wouldn’t be a good idea to give me a little girl. He disagreed and you came into the world with my red hair, freckles and chubby cheeks. I didn’t know how to be a girl myself, how was I going to teach you to be a better girl? I stressed and worried for months about raising a daughter. I feared all the girly things I’d need to explain one day. More importantly, I feared having the right answers when you came to me with questions.

I’ve tried, I have, honestly.

I knew the day was coming… I just didn’t think it through. I’m sorry.

Today, we set out to look for the perfect first day of school outfit. It went bad quickly, didn’t it?

I’m thankful that you couldn’t see the sweat on my brow, or feel the raise in my blood pressure, possibly notice my shaking hands or understand why my voice took on a tone of impatience. At that moment, I realized I was failing you. I’m sorry.

None of my reactions were your fault, I just knew, you were about to figure out that I had no idea what I was doing and I panicked.

I’ve been where you were today. Searching for clothes like everyone else’s …especially those cute outfits “Jessie” makes or wears.

I know I started in the wrong place. With you gaining the height of five foot rapidly, I should have known better than to send you off to that side of the department store. Nothing was going to fit you over there. I’m sorry. I suppose I still wanted you to be my little girl. Not the young woman you are beautifully turning into, right in front of my eyes. Together we designed outfits that made us smile. All the while, I had figured out, way too late, that none of them were going to fit correctly. I’m sorry. There would be something in that outfit that wouldn’t fit and it would turn into an epic fail.

Shopping Hell. I’m sorry.

You were looking for a “First Day of School Outfit” and I let you down. I didn’t know where to take you to find clothes that would fit. I’m sorry. Where does a mother take her daughter for clothes when they’ve outgrown those adorable little girl sections? Where is that place??!!

I had visions of the first time I bought blue jeans for myself. They were four sizes too big, which required me to tie bandanas around both legs to hold them up. I was in seventh grade and I had to convince myself that I was a rocker chick and that I’d like my new look. All I needed to do was ask for help, but I didn’t. I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have a love/hate relationship with clothes or with your body. I should have started learning and asking questions back then. I’m sorry.

I found myself looking at the Granny clothes section and thinking…is this where she shops now? The thought crossed my mind and I’m so thankful you didn’t see me looking in that direction, as you would have been so disappointed. I’m sorry. You aren’t a Junior yet either, so those ripped t-shirts, skinny jeans, sexy tops and skulls aren’t appropriate. They may never be. I’m sorry.

I really do want to see you look your best. What will I do when you can see right through me and figure out that I stink at shopping? I pray you’ll be understanding. You have an eye that I cannot compete with and you love clothes. I cannot relate. My fears of how to put clothes together, well, you’ve got that handled. (I cannot believe you pay that much attention to what everyone is wearing.)

I didn’t know where to take you shopping today. I feel like I failed at my job. I should have prepared you for this, I failed as your mother.

I’m sorry.

I promise, I’ll do my research and we’ll try again. There is nothing worse than being unprepared as a parent. All I wanted to do was find you something to wear that made you feel like a special girl.

Today, I wasn’t prepared for your stepping stone moment.

I have to concentrate on my new biggest fear: where to take you shopping. Shopping for a girl who’s never gonna be narrow in the shoulders and short-waisted, is so hard.

You were given a Mom who has no idea. I’m sorry.

I don’t know where we’ll find a shirt that doesn’t cling to your tummy and goes past your waist line but not to your knees. That look isn’t in style right now. I didn’t see a A-line near enough today. When I do, I know it’ll take a bunch of convincing for you to like it…and for that I’m prepared.

I can sell you on just about anything. All I need is a little time and some really terrible second or third choices.

I love you, Maxine. I’m sorry you took after your mother and that finding clothes to fit your body type will be a yearly battle. I can’t promise it’ll be easy. What I can promise, is that the tears we share in the dressing room will bound us forever.

I’ll promise you that,



8 thoughts on “Can You Pass The Tissues? I Have Issues…

  1. ok this was heartfelt but you need to calm down….your kid is going through the stage where nothing fits. all kids do. I’m 18 and I went through it, my sister did too. My mom was all like “oh your at that stage where kids clothes dont fit you anymore but teen clothes dont either” it was a bit frustrating to go shopping but in the end we always found something, even if it took longer and we got annoyed at having to try so many things on. my mom never broke down about how she had failed as a parent and so on. you’re making it a huge deal, no offense. if your kid picks up on your feelings of panic and failure she’s gonna feel bad cuz parents are supposed to be the ones that reassure the kid, and i know i would have felt much worse about nothing fitting if my mom was nearly crying over it. your kid looks up to you and she doesnt want to feel like its her fault her mom is hysterical in the dressing room…if you act like its no big deal, she’ll probably feel that way too. soon she’ll fit into teen sizes and that’ll be it.

    • Oh Julie, I didn’t let my daughter see me sweat. Our day was fantastic and she wasn’t in on my fear that our shopping event was anything less than a perfect day out with mom. We left with a little disappointment that they didn’t have our size in stock, but it was a good mother daughter day.

      As moms we learn how to make struggles seem like every day business.

      What I wrote here was a personal reflection of how I felt our day went. I was hard on myself, but we’re usually hardest on ourselves. I was mearly expressing myself and inner struggles with parenthood.

      Since then we have had more great shopping events and lots of clothes have been brought home.

      I think you took my post a little too literal. It was more of an expression of self doubt, that grown woman often have, when meeting new challenges that muster up old feelings.

      Rest assured “I got this…” And happen to think I’m a pretty amazing mom to a fantastic 9 year old girl, who radiates self confidence.

      Read this again when you’re 40.

  2. Just found your blog & I really like your writing style! Keep up the great work! I’m looking forward to reading more!
    I so remember those shopping days, and I have to admit, I like them a lot better now that my daughter is an adult. We had some rough shopping experiences too, and I thought I had it all figured out. I don’t think it’s possible…it’s just tough being a girl and that stage in between little girl and young lady. I know with a desire like you have, you will be able to figure it all out though. Hang in there!
    Oh, and you just got another follower! 🙂
    Blessings to you and your family!

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