as dash gets older, of course i miss things. i miss how he used to fit in my lap when i held him. i miss rocking him to sleep. i miss his gummy little smile.
and this weekend, it became official, i now officially miss buying for him what i want him to wear.
shoot. i always wondered at what age he would stop being a reflection of my style and start demanding his own. turns out, i wonder no more. four. age four is when he has officially confirmed that my style is no longer his.
naturally i fought this thinking, ah he's just being picky, blah. but. after a large return of "crunchy" jeans, "lame" shirts, and *gasp* how dare i even think of mentioning a hair cut...i throw in the towel.
so folks, from here on out i can not be held responsible for dash's look. if you think his hair is too long, his soft pants collection too excessive, or his new back to school kicks are too, err, green. take it up with the boss man.
lucky for me...
i just so happen to like his style.
