Here's my dirtiest little secret:
I never wanted to parent a girl.
Quite honestly, they scare me. I never had a lot of friends when I was a little girl. I could tell even then that they had a tendency to be mean-spirited and their acceptance was ephemeral in many cases; for someone as needful of approval as I was as a child, it was a scary proposition. Plus there's all the lip gloss and glitter and crap.
When I was pregnant my doctor did a sneak-ultrasound before the real scheduled appointment for that, and told me she was pretty sure I was carrying a girl.
And then amazing recovery. Once I knew my baby was a girl, I had no further thought of boys. After all, she was mine, and was therefore exactly as she should be. Even when she was the size of an apple. I did have LOTS of thoughts on how to avoid the lip gloss and glitter and crap. I set about making a jungle-themed nursery, avoided buying pink layette, and declined to repaint the bedroom that was decorated with green and blue when we bought the house.
Enter Hannah. Obviously, an infant has no complaints about decor. And I had that kid all monkeyed up until she had her first sleep-over with my dear friend Amee's daughter. She came back home, at age 3 maybe, singing the praises of Barbie (cringe) and insisting that there wasn't enough pink in her life. That did it. One night in girly town and my monkey girl is ruined.
I like to blame Amee, because it's funny to me, but the real truth is that Hannah is a girly-girl. As amazing as Amee and her daughter are, I doubt they could brainwash an unwilling Hannah in less than 24 hours. Nope. My child loves pink. And dresses. And fancy stuff. Hell, she chooses my accessories for me most days.
So you may imagine my joy when she told me yesterday that she wanted to be the "lady who helps you at the library" when she grows up. Not a princess. Not a rock star. A librarian. Ahhh. Wear pink if you like, my love, but by all means use your brain. You are exactly as you should be.