Boys will be Children

Recently, my four year old son went to the barber with his father.  It was a barber shop he had been to before, but only once, where they use no scissors, only electric clippers. The first time, he was visably nervous, but the barber was very calm and assuring with him and it ended up being a positive experience overall and his hair looked great.  This time, however, the experience went differently.

This time, with a different barber at the same shop, my son started to cry.  He said it was because it felt like the clipper was pulling his hair.   I know that he is especially sensitive to sensations around his ears and if the clippers seem to be pulling more than last time, I can imagine that it would be cause for him to cry because it's hard for any four year old to distinguish and react to conflicting sensations and emotions and crying is a good way of processing those emotions if you aren't fully ready to express it in words.  I imagine that it must have been uncomfortable for the barber on a busy Saturday, in a small shop, to have a strange child crying while he's trying to cut his hair. I am not without compassion for the man.  However, he was without any compassion for my child.  My husband said he handled it horribly, even telling him to "suck it up, buttercup."  Among other actions that clearly let worry one know how disgusted he was by my son's outpouring of emotion.  

Here's my issue.  I know that not everyone can handle children crying.  I also know that reasonable adults have bad days, but I also know for a fact that he would not have been treated that way if he were female,  I know it for a fact because I cried off and on even I got my hair cry up through age ten or so and although I got a range of flustered reactions, that was not one of them.  I got empathy, I got frustration, I got irritation, but no one ever told me that I needed to "suck it up."  I may have been exasperating, but I was never invalidated.  Here's the truth, whatever gender expression children have, it has nothing to do with whether or not or how they express their emotions.  Babies cry, girls cry, boys cry, women cry, men cry, intersex people cry.  Crying is a healthy expression of emotions.  It is only our culturally trained discomfort with strong emotions and our culturally trained level for tolerance that make us believe that tears are more acceptable for some and not others and the intolerance that is shown for the emotions of boys is absolutely reprehensible.  I can't count the number of times my son has been applauded for times he doesn't cry and scorned and mocked when he does.  I've even heard relatives telling him to "man up."  Man up?  He's a child!  And what kind of individual refuses to cry when he or she is hurt?  An unhealthy one.  A repressed one.

Boys will be children.  Children (and all humans) will cry.  If it's uncomfortable for you or someone around you, try to grow up a little.  Don't take it out on a child.

What's Sex Got to Do With It?: Learning to Appreciate Your Baby No Matter What

Recently, I overheard a family at a restaurant being asked about the sex of their newborn baby while their beautiful (and I mean GORGEOUS, curly haired, obviously very spirited) preschooler proudly stood near by. The mother sighed and said "It's another little girl. We tried for two boys and we're stuck with two girls. What can I say? We're cursed." I know that little girl heard every word her mother said and although her mother may not have meant it literally, I couldn't help but wonder if this was the first or even the last time these sweet little girls would hear such a "joke" from someone that they have the right to believe will love and protect them the most. It also made me really examine myself and some feelings I've had during this pregnancy.

You see, before I ever got pregnant the first time, I had dreams of having a little girl. I knew what to call her. I knew the talks I wanted to have with her. I daydreamed about what life would be with her. But then I got pregnant and almost from the very beginning, I had the strong feeling I had a little boy. So strong in fact, that when I was told at 23 weeks that I was pregnant with a girl, I couldn't stop crying because I felt like someone had stolen the little boy I had bonded to away from me. For five weeks, I tried to make peace with the news that I was not having a boy, but was having a girl. Then, at another ultrasound, a different technician asked me if we knew what we were having. Wishing to know her unbiased opinion, I asked her what she thought we were having and she replied, "Well, I can't tell for sure because this baby has a foot in the way, but I think these might be testicles." My husband was shocked and dismayed to find out that we may not, in fact, "know" for sure what we were having, but I was thrilled. The little boy I had bonded with was back in the picture. A little over four months later, our son was born.

After having my son, I loved him to pieces, but a part of me still dreamed of having a little girl. I'll admit many of my dreams bear the gender stereotypes of wanting to go dress shopping, bond over sewing/cooking, and just engaging in "girl talk" as well as finally getting to visit the larger half of the baby section where all the really cute baby clothes are. (Which of course, depending on the daughter might never come true or might even come true with a boy just as well as a girl. . . a son could love sewing and shopping just as much as a daughter.) When I felt overwhelmed by motherhood and worried that maybe I couldn't handle another baby, I would look at my friend's daughters and think, but if I quit now, I would never have a daughter!

This time, when we finally got pregnant, I felt for sure I knew the sex again only to go into the ultrasound once more and be told the opposite. Once again, I felt it difficult to make peace with the new information. Because the ultrasound had been wrong before and we are likely having no new ones this pregnancy, I have not made the information public in case it is wrong again, but privately, I struggled to make peace with what might prove to be a dashed expectation. The baby I thought I knew so well early on, might not be who I thought this baby would be!

Yet, hearing that mother complaining aloud about the sex of her children, made me really think about how much sex really doesn't matter in the long run. My dreams of having a little girl pre-children were quickly surpassed by the wonderful reality of life with my son. The early "knowledge" I felt I had about this baby, should it prove wrong, would do nothing to surpass the blessing I have in having another little soul entrusted in my care no matter what sex s/he turns out to be. With so many would be mothers struggling out there to have any children, how can I or any other lucky parent really complain about getting a child of a sex we were not expecting or (in case of the mother in the restaurant) maybe didn't want initially? After all, child's personality is far more important, interesting, and compelling than just whether or not s/he is declared a boy or girl at birth. We become obsessed with finding out whether or not a child is a boy or a girl because we think that gives us a shortcut into knowing what they are going to be like growing up or as grown ups, but honestly, sex is no more indicative of who our children are than their birth weight or height proves to be. It is just one piece of the information. It would be my honor at this point to birth another boy, a girl, or even a hermaphrodite because what is most important is the soul inside and the bond that we will build together. I hope that everyone who ever wants a baby is "cursed" the way that lucky mother was "cursed" in that she dreamed of having a family and now she has one. I only hope that wherever she is, she soon learns that her two little girls are just as precious and as wonderful as her two dream sons would have been, maybe even more so because they are real, they are here, and they are more than just a box marked "female" on their birth certificates.

Thanks for reading,
Shawna

moving beyond gender stereotypes

This weekend is my daughter's 3rd birthday. She's having a party and she couldn't be more excited to share the day with her friends. When we started thinking about her birthday a month or two ago, it was pretty easy to come up with a "theme" the she would love. I asked her if it was what she wanted, and she agreed happily, and continued to want the same theme ever since. So, this weekend will be my daughter's Construction party. 

My daughter came upon her love of construction vehicles naturally. The major road that she and I drive when we go to visit my parents every month or so has been having work done for as long as she can remember (a multi-year, expansion project). Diggers are her favorite, and she gleefully points out every. single. one. along the drive. At daycare, she plays with her classmates with trucks... but also all sorts of toys, blocks, books, trains, puzzles, baby dolls, and in the play kitchen.

I never really worried about gender stereotypes in our household. I don't like pink, my husband's favorite color is purple, we both love to cook, he cleans more then I do, and we both work outside of the home. Since my daughter was born, I've bought her clothes from the boys section and girls section equally. We never turn down a gift of clothes, no matter what the color, and whatever she chooses to wear in the morning is fine by me, so long as its weather appropriate. We're also blessed with family and friends that don't bat an eye when we answer their question of, "what does she want for Christmas?" with "Trucks!" She adores her two babies, Lily and Laura, and has the best time pounding away on her tool bench.

I wonder if this is going to change as she gets older. Her interests will grow and change, for certain, but all I want is for her to know its okay to love whatever she loves, that her gender does not determine her interest, her actions, or her capabilities. I hope no one she meets, be it child or adult, will make her feel badly for choosing hobbies that are more traditional "boy" hobbies. And for my own part, I will do my best not to let my own interests or associations dissuade her from any traditionally "girl" hobbies.

My girl, she is perfect when she is building tall towers with blocks while wearing pink dresses, and perfect when she is rocking her baby to sleep while wearing brown sweatpants and a blue hoodie, or a football uniform.


How do you feel about gender roles in your household? Do your friends and family respect that? Do you feel moving beyond gender stereotypes is harder with a boy?

You Need More PINK!

I can’t pinpoint exactly when Americans felt the necessity to dress their daughters up like Easter baskets with ribbons and ruffles and sparkles and bows in order to prove they were girls, but I can say that as a child born in 1976, those things were generally reserved for special occasions, and there are plenty of photos of me and my three older sisters wearing earth tones and primary colors, and even [gasp!] blue without any flowers or frilly things with it!  If you know me well, then you know that I hate the color pink.  As one might imagine given today’s society, this became somewhat problematic once I had a daughter.  While there are a few muted shades I can tolerate, especially when sprinkled in with other colors, I usually find myself shuttering, and ultimately fleeing from the girls section in clothing stores.  Particularly the shoe department – apparently no girl can be without a bedazzled flower, rainbow, or glitter on her already pink shoes. 

Don’t get me wrong, I see plenty of little cutie pie girls dolled up in pink floral dresses and I find them absolutely adorable!  I have no problem with other parents choosing to dress their children this way, because that is absolutely their own decision and far from my business to judge.  Worrying about how others dress their children is not something I see as a valuable way to spend my time.  However, when it comes to my own daughter, something about the whole thing makes me cringe.  I dread the day when she will be old enough to choose the things she wants to wear.  The day when she will start to submit to marketing, peer pressure and social paradigms.  She is only 19 months old, and I’m already struggling to devise a way to somehow protect her from this oversimplified “genderfication,” as I personally like to call it.  Even if I can limit her exposure at home to television and Disney princesses, how can I stop it from seeping in through friends at school, sleepovers, etc… without keeping my child in a bubble or making her an outcast?

It is infuriating to say the least, because there is something far greater going on than simply dressing girls in pink.  The notion that girls are only meant to be pretty little princesses has far reaching implications, and marketing, media and society all seem to be on board with the plan.  But whether or not immersing my daughter in a sparkle covered pink world of Barbies and princesses will have an adverse impact on her life is a topic for another post.  My intention is to focus on the color divide that has evolved around our children.  It truly baffles me.

Prior to last month’s addition of yellow, somewhat feminine looking eyeglasses, I can probably count on one hand the number of times strangers referred to my daughter as a girl.  Even if she was wearing hints of pink, the response given far too often after it was revealed that she was not a boy was, “You need more pink.”  You need more pink?  What does that even mean?  I have to dress my daughter monochromatically because you are incapable of uttering an extra sentence to inquire about the sex of my baby?  These people always acted as if I had her dressed head to toe in baby blue, and it was obviously all my fault for leading them astray.  When in actuality, my means of trickery usually consisted of her being dressed in earth tones, primary colors, or even pastel yellows and greens.  My favorite incident occured when she was wearing the rainbow, puffy sleeved onesie pictured below.  She was pulled out of a blue baby carrier, and my other baby gear is either indigo blue or earth tones.  It made me question whether baby gear colors trump clothing in shaping people's perception of gender.  I was unaware that I had to extend the pink rule to my baby gear as well.  In the end, I was always more irritated by the foolish color related comments than the fact that they mixed up her sex. 

Onesie from my favorite "you need more pink" incident

What struck me about the whole thing was that apparently baby boys are permitted to wear ALL but one or two colors, whereas girls are strictly limited to pink, and I suppose by close relation purple.  When did this happen?  I realize it’s been going on for some time now, but it only seems to be getting worse.  The few commercials I have managed to catch that are aimed at young girls practically make my head spin Exorcist style.  There’s usually a few girls playing in a bedroom, EVERYTHING in the room is pink, and there are sparkles literally flying through the air.  What is the reasoning behind this?  Is our society so hell bent on instilling female gender roles from infancy onward, that from day one we have to blanket their entire world in the one color that is associated with women?  Will they not know that they are girls if every single thing they own, from school supplies to dishes, isn't pink or purple?  I’m pretty sure if we opened up the spectrum a bit, girls would still play with dolls and adhere to all the other parameters of their “genderfication.”

For the record, I’m not against playing with dolls, or many other things typically associated with girls.  The division of labor in my home could not be more stereotypically assigned, with me doing the cooking, cleaning, laundry, sewing and daytime child rearing as a stay at home mom.  I adore fulfilling that role and wouldn’t have it any other way.  I think doll play instills nurturing abilities, and pretending to be a princess is wonderful exercise for the imagination.  However, my daughter also plays with cars (which she loves!) among other things, and even at this early age is showing signs of becoming what some may consider a tomboy.  I just wish that everything for girls wasn’t color coded, and especially in the case of toys, that pink girly things weren’t the ONLY things marketed towards them.  Sadly, with media variations expanding by the second, hand in hand with new means of bombarding these images and products at the brains of our impressionable daughters, I only see this problem getting worse.  As a result, chances are my daughter’s favorite color will be pink.  If that’s the case – so be it, as long as it makes her happy.