Adventures in girlyness

I have three boys. I got used to the idea that I was going to be a mom of boys. That I would be potty training boys. That I would be dressing boys. Giving boys crew cuts and fauxhawks. That my laundry baskets would be full of blacks, blues, greens, and grays.

Then I had a girl.

I didn’t set out to fill my world with pink and ruffles. I don’t care much for gender issues– my children can like and do whatever they like and want to do– but I can’t help but enjoy the different-ness of a girl after three boys. The vast majority of Buttercup’s clothes were hand-me-downs and gifts, and they were just so pretty!
I let Buttercup’s hair grow out and am setting about learning how to do different things with it. The boys like their hair short.
All my kids like beaded necklaces. Mardi Gras, St. Patrick’s, 4th of July… they’re just fun. But only Buttercup puts them on whenever she finds them and walks around saying “pree-yee,” which I assume means “pretty.” I didn’t teach her that: it came to her naturally.
I never thought I would have to figure out how to be a mom of a girl. I was quite sure I wouldn’t be good at it. And I was certain I didn’t want a little me. But it wasn’t entirely up to me, was it?
So if I can get the girl to sit still, I’ll attempt a French braid. Wish me luck!


Meh…it’s a start.

Here’s to letting children be themselves. Because they are awesome.


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