A couple of weeks ago, I bought two pairs of shorts and a couple of t-shirts for Cordy at Target. (Side note: I cannot profess my love of Target enough. I only wish I could walk into that store without walking out at least $50 poorer.) After washing them, the new clothes were placed into her dresser, ready to be worn.

So last week when I pulled out a new t-shirt and shorts, I wasn’t prepared for what happened. I put Cordy’s shorts on, pulled them up to her hips, and they stopped. Tugged a little, got another inch higher. Tugged some more – another inch. A little more tugging and jiggling and telling her to suck in her stomach because it’s good practice for the body image crisis you’re sure to have as a pre-teen, and they finally reached her waist.

The shirt took less effort to put on. But something was still wrong. Instead of a 1-2″ overlap of t-shirt and shorts, there was a gap. I pulled down on the shirt, managing to stretch it enough so it just met the waistband of her shorts. Being a truly lazy parent rushed for time, I let her go to school like this, even though I’m sure it was tough to sit down with shorts that tight.

Later, I tried the other pair of shorts, and they were the same. Here’s the thing, though: I thought I was buying big when I bought them all in 5T. Apparently my 3-year-old is too big for 5T now. See, when you raise Amazons, they tend to grow out of the little sizes faster than they should.

Returning to Target this weekend, I found myself browsing the toddler clothing again. (Can’t help it – I’m just drawn there every time.) I picked up a pair of shorts and nearly put them in the cart when I remembered that 5T is too small now. However, she still needed summer clothing.

My little girl is growing up, I told myself. Times are a-changin’, and I guess I need to change with them. She needs clothes from the big girls section now.

I glanced across the aisle. Large pictures of older girls, in flashy accessories, hats, and stylish shoes smiled and laughed at me. Wait, are they wearing make-up? I felt woozy.

Pushing the cart ever-so-slowly into this new terrain, I examined each new fitted t-shirt, spaghetti-strap tank, and pair of short-shorts and had an overwhelming urge to run away. After all, my little girl is too young for this:
And you have got to be kidding me, no freakin’ way this:

And oh god, kill me now! anything but this:

All were available in her size.

So what did I buy? Nothing. Oh sure, there were some more simple pieces that covered body parts well, but the thought of dressing her in big girl clothes made my eyes tear up and my chest feel tight. I ran away, reminding myself that Gymboree might cost an arm and a leg, but at least the Gymboree 5T sizes still fit her and look like clothing for preschoolers, and hey, I’ve got an extra arm and leg each, right?

She may look physically older than her actual age, but I’m not ready to complete the look with more grown-up clothing. It’s not like she wants any of this clothing, anyway. She has practically no interest in clothing, and wears whatever I put her in without a second glance. The only time she has any opinion is when she spots her Little Einsteins t-shirt and asks to wear it. Otherwise I could dress her in a burlap sack and she wouldn’t care.

Cordy may be big enough for the big girl clothes now, but clearly mommy can’t handle it yet. You can call me irrational – I won’t deny it. I’m not quite ready to let go of clothing cut for a toddler body in favor of clothing cut to make a girl look closer to puberty than infancy.

And at the same time, as I write this, I wonder to myself: when did I become such a prude?