Eating my words. . . . Another of my pre-child pronouncements has just bitten the dust. When Disney released the movie "Aladin," I was coaching swimming and teaching summer swim lessons. We would have little girls arrive at lessons attired, head to toe, in Princess Jasmine garb. They even had Jasmine bathing suits and towels. And there was a spate of girls named "Ariel" after the character in the Disney movie "The Little Mermaid." I remember grumbling to one of the other coaches that if I ever had children, I would never, ever buy them clothing or shoes with cartoon characters, especially Disney ones, on them. Now that I have small children, I'm finding it's not so easy to keep my resolutions. The infiltration began slowly. There were some Winnie the Pooh overalls and a Winnie the Pooh dress given as gifts. I allowed them because a. they were gifts and I hadn't bought them, and b. they were Winnie the Pooh and classic Pooh at that. Ella has asked for shirts with characters on them before, and I've been able to say no. I don't like the idea of paying to advertise a character from a TV show. Then tonight my resistance broke down, and I ate my words. I bought Ella sneakers with Dora the Explorer on them. I told her we were going shopping for new shoes to wear for her first day of pre-school and asked her what kind she wanted. "Pink with Dora on them," was her immediate response. She must have seen another child with them; how else would she know that such shoes even exist. I told her that if the store had them we would get them. I deliberately picked a store that I was sure wouldn't have Dora shoes. As it turns out, I picked wrong. When we got to the shoe department, I spotted this great pair of retro-looking pink suede Keds, the kind of shoes I'd wear if they had them in my size. I was working at talking Ella into them when she spotted, down at the far, far end of the aisle, a pair of Dora shoes. Her eyes just lit up. "Look mama, Dora shoes. I'd be so happy to have Dora shoes." Now how do I say no to that, especially when she looks up with her huge brown eyes and bats her impossibly long eyelashes at me. I took a deep breath and reversed my convictions. I told her we'd get them only if they had a pair that fit. They did. I thought some more about putting my foot down, even if it meant dragging a screaming toddler from the store. Then I thought about trying to force her into shoes to go to school in the morning and how much easier it would be if she was actually excited about the shoes she was putting on. So I gave in and let her get the shoes. As we passed by the children's department, she spotted a Dora backpack. I quickly said no and beat a hasty retreat before we saw anymore Dora apparel. The end result is a happy toddler and a mom who has resolved never to make resolutions.