A Change of Seasons

I am not the kind of person who would enjoy living in a temperate climate, sunny during the day, a cool breeze at night, flowers blooming continually. (Okay, maybe it would have appeal during the month of February. I hate February.) Call me crazy, but I love having four distinct seasons. Living in Nebraska, we certainly have weather extremes—sometimes all in a single day.

David, however, hates the change of seasons. I guess I shouldn't presume that. To be more accurate, David hates change—seasons or otherwise—and the change of clothes that accompanies a change of seasons can sometimes throw us into a tailspin.

Getting David to switch from sandals to tennis shoes or shorts to jeans is somewhat comparable to the Middle East peace negotiations. To get David to try something new, there is usually some coaxing, some compromise, a great deal of consternation, then a confrontation followed by a conflagration, but in the end we usually have to resort to flat out bribery.

The weather has gotten cooler and I was trying to prepare David for winter coat season. Of course, we had a coat for him to wear that had been Andrew's, but it was not the favored red, so I caved—I guess that is the compromise part—and bought a brand new red one to make the transition easier. So, on Monday we gave David a choice. If he wanted to go to swimming lessons, he had to be decked in his red and gray puffer coat from Target. Well, let's just say that he wore the coat, but not without a fight. And he was still so annoyed about it when he got home, that he ripped it off and threw it on the floor of the garage as soon as Michael had stopped the car.

Tuesday, I bought David his Halloween costume--nothing like waiting until the last minute, right? David does not like to wear costumes, surprise, surprise, but it was SpongeBob Squarepants, one of his favorite characters. I knew that he needed to see it and hopefully try it on before the big day, so I pulled out all the stops. First I had Andrew parade around in it and then (please HOLD for the bribery part) I told him that if he put it on, we would go get an ice cream cone. He abandoned the costume, left the room and I thought that he had made the decision to stay home until he quickly returned wearing his new red winter coat zipped up to the chin, looking like a puffy red cherub. It was like introducing the SpongeBob costume into David's wardrobe had pushed the red coat one notch up the tolerance totem pole. David still hated the coat, but not as much as he hated the costume.

One of my wise advisors, who in this case just happens to be my 13-year-old nephew, has suggested that I should always just be a season ahead. Tomorrow, I should introduce David to his Christmas sweater, so that he will wear his SpongeBob costume on Halloween. Then by the time I am ready to get David dressed to take Christmas card pictures, I can break out the Easter outfit. By the way, when does Target begin stocking their Easter clothes?