Tiny teensy insey winesy pink things. Hoppy floppy mopsy cottontailed green and brown bun buns all over the bedding. Flowers and flounces and bonnets and ruffley muffley underpantses that go under ickly bickly dresses.
Makes a girl's ovaries want to throw a party.
Oh come on! For like a minute. It was all over an hour after I left.
Blogga, please. Me with a girl? That chick would be spittin' and sassin' before she could walk. One thing I know about little girls? They turn into big girls. And quick. Something very very right in the universe happened the day that Jake wasn't a girl.
But what if he was?
What would I do?
How would I dress him? Her? It? Her?
Like me? Cargo shorts and jeans and v-neck sweaters and tanktops? Oh hey! Maybe I didn't tell you. I've made a pact with myself. No more men's clothes (in the summer, in the winter I'm free to be me, whatever that me may be). Well, mostly. I'm wearing dresses instead of shorts all summer. And this may or may not have something to do with the fact that I'm too, um- womanly- to fit into the largest size at Gap Kids Boy's section anymore and I'm not loving the super long crotch of their men's pants these days. I'm betting they must have changed the way they are cutting the fabric or something. Ahem. Emah. Right.
I'm guessing I'd probably dress my daughter more like a girl. But no pink. Very little of it at least. And hardly any purple. No frills or glitter or weird appliques. Ever notice that the clothes in the little girls departments look very similar to the clothes in the plus size department of the $9.99 stores? I just can't stand it. Pink looks like something that would cure a bellyache and that pastey little girl purple color is just it's ugly cousin. Reminds me of crushed up Necco wafers.
I like plain stuff. Like plain stuff that you can't find for girls.
Would I have to brush her hair? Because even though Jake's hair is longish, I don't really comb it. I just let it do what it does. It's really boho punk rock. That's his style. That's the way he likes it, and I'm fine with that. Is it different with girls? I mean, I don't comb my hair. I just cut it all off the back and tuck it behind my ears in the front until it dries and then it has this nice wave to it and it hits about chin-length so it sort of looks like a bob. Is that okay to do to a little girl? Buzz her head I mean? I'm sure as shit not going to pigtail it every damned day. Is it okay to cornrow whitebaby hair? Because I'm open to that option.
For me, I over-compensate for the short hair with eyeliner if I'm going anywhere that requires girlishness. I'm no Mrs. Jon Benet or anything, but can I over-compensate for buzzing my daughter's head with eyeliner? I'm not gonna pageant the kid out or anything. Just take her to the store or wherever. Keep people from calling her "boy".
Would I have to buy her Barbie dolls and baby dolls? No, right? I don't know. We aren't supposed to buy dolls anymore I don't think. Something about they cause bulimia and MTV specials and misguided adulthood goals or something like that. I don't keep up with toy politico. I've struggled with this before.
What do little girls play with?
Horses? Are little girls still into those plastic horses?
I loved plastic horses.
Flicka and Banner?
Would I have to balance swim class with soccer practice and piano lessons and ballet/tap/jazz the way my mom and dad had to do with me? Because you can't just do one of those things. Too much dance and you'll make her too femme. Too much soccer and she'll get lots of tattoos and buzz the back of her hair...oh. Never mind. Too much piano and she
And none of that can interfere with school of course.
So when we aren't figuring out to do with her mop and stuff, we could read. I think. I used to read everything I could get my hands on.
My brother was recently appalled to find the following books in his daughter's collection:
"My Perfect Wedding" starring Cinderella.
"One True Love" starring Aladdin's girlfriend Jasmine
"My Prince has Come" with Sleeping Beauty
"Cleaning House" with Snow White.
Yeah, no that's not good. Those books would be firestarters in my house. The pages would make nice kindling. Twist 'em tight and light the ends and poke 'em deep under the logs to start the fire.
Shifting from the topic of "What the hell would I do with a girlbaby" and back to real life. Jake and I read a condensed Disney version of The Little Mermaid last night. Now, I've never seen the Disney version of TLM, but I was hesitant to read this story because I know the real Hans Christian Anderson TLM story. The one that starts with exotic piercings and ends with suicide. So, yeah.
Anyway. Poor Jake got all choked up at the end of the story and said:
"stories about girls make me so sad. i'm so sorry you had to be borned a girl, mommy. girls have such sad and bad lives until they get loved. and then girls have to leave their family to keep their boyfriends so they don't have bad lives anymore."
(did I ever tell you that one way Jake likes to buy more awake time at bedtime is to get real deep with me? It kills me to have to leave him hanging, but I have to draw the line somewhere because I know it's a game he plays.).
So I say, "what do you mean?"
"well, just like ariel had to leave her daddy and her friends so she could be loved, that's what you had to do too. that's why you live so far away from mimi and grandpa and you live in the town where daddy comes from. because that's what girls do. just like in the story. you moved here so you could get happy and loved."
"Yes, I do live far away from my family and some of my friends, but I didn't move away to be loved. These are just stories and I don't even really think they are particularly good stories and we will talk about all this another time because it is way past bedtime and now it's time to go to sleep."
"i have more questions"
"but you always say i can ask you anything at any time and there is never a time that isn't a good time for a question"
"Is this an emergency?"
"I love you, and can I have some water?"
"I love you too and you can get it yourself. Goodnight."
Jacob may never know the reasons I moved away from home, and all he needs to know about the reason I never went back is because I'm happy now.
It may not be a fairy tale, but it's a nice story.