Sugar, spice and stereotypes

I never really planned on having a daughter. Shoot, I never planned kids at all, they just were very exciting surprises, every time. But you know, back when I was playing MASH and planning my dream house in 7th grade, I thought I would probably be a boy mom. That is, the mom of boys.

When I had a girl, I planned to use moderation, and try to gently steer her away from things that would make me sweat, like anything involving outdoors. So far, so good. She, on her own, showed an early preference for pink and tiaras, and except for making skunks ride in her Barbie Corvette, has pretty much toed the Girly Line along the way here. I try to encourage them to be whatever they want to be, and if that's a fairy butterfly princess today, fine with me. If it's President tomorrow, great. I've been planning that for a long time.

Lately, she has been looking at me like I'm a hero. You know, with the upturned lashes and the awe and such. And I am falling for it, bigtime. I mean, I always loved my baby. Now, though, it's something new and special, realizing that she is a girl, like me, and that we share something so sweet. I'm also realizing my responsibility to model womanhood, and motherhood and femininity and the whole package to her.

Some of you are probably gagging on all this sweetness and light. Give me time. I'll write something dark and moody soon, I'm sure.

I'm just geeking on the girliness. Can't get enough. I know it might end, and she will start picking hiking boots and wanting to play hockey. But for now, my little princess and I will enjoy this. I will teach her, in time, to be strong and smart and brave and independent. And sparkly and silly and pretty, too.