If my life was a movie, it would be called "It's an Ironical Life."
I divorced a sex-loving really nice guy with even nicer parents for a fairly high-maintenance libido-less dude with crazier-than-thou parents. I left Mississippi to live with my in-laws. And, despite all my attempts to raise an anti-princess tool-kit loving toddler, she is, by all accounts a girly girl.
Now don't get me wrong. I did my fair share of ballet dancing, hair curling, and make-up wearing. And I still do. Except the ballet - which, as you might imagine, would be quite a feat this late in my pregnancy.
But honestly, I'm definitely a girly-ish girl.
And while I do try to push purple, green, and yellow, along with tools, Bob the Builder, and other not-so-Barbie items, I am not about to deny my daughter any of her wants just because they seem to be too stereotypical of women.
Okay. So a Bratz doll, for sure. They will never be touched by my daughter's little tiny fingers. And the real make up kit and *gulp* BARBIE DOLL (complete with mini-skirt and 6 inch platforms) from you.know.who have already been donated to the trash can.
But, truth be told, she was dying for a dollhouse and she loved herself a play kitchen, and the good mother that I am (or if you're speaking to my daughter -- SANTA --) gave in. And so, amidst the tools, bicycle, and dinosaur toys, there's the Little Tikes Kitchen, two dollhouses, a lovely ballet outfit complete with REAL ballet shoes, and a baby doll.
It doesn't make me any less of a mother, nor her any less of a feminista. At least, that's what I try to tell myself. Is gender neutrality highly overrated? Am I fooling myself to think that we can escape all these ridiculous pink toys?
Or are our girls programmed? wired? genetically predisposed?
Quite frankly, I can't say I'm that disappointed. I mean when she's this cute, you just can't imagine her with a tool belt, construction boots, and a hard hat on.