On Raising My Girl

Silly me. I thought raising a girl would be the same as raising a boy. Well, that's what I was told in all my women's studies classes. Just hand her unisex toys, read her The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch enough times and all things will be equal. Dress her in red or blue. Give her the boy's hand-me-down clothes. Gender neutral colour on the walls of her bedroom. You're all set. Girls equal boys. Boys equal girls.

And then she was born. In a maelstrom of pink glitter. I swear butterflies and tiny fairies floated around the operating room. Okay, maybe those were the drugs they gave me. But in that moment I had an epiphany. No blue will touch my perfect baby girl. No green. No gender neutral wall colours are acceptable. All that I learned was thrown out through the lace priscilla curtains covering the windows of her perfectly pink striped nursery. I'll deal with her issues of inferiority in a patriarchal society as soon as I'm finished getting her ears pierced. Okay. I suck. I know. All feminists everywhere are turning their backs on me. Leaving my baby girl and I to fend for ourselves in a world where I do the baking and my husband takes out the garbage.

But you know something? I have no doubts my girl will turn out okay. After all she wants to be the boss of Daddy when she grows up. After she becomes an astronaut, after she becomes a scientist. I'm not sure how NASA will feel about pink space suits, but there's a first time for everything. I think what's important isn't the colour of the suit. It's the fact she believes with all the certainty of a four year old she will wear one someday. Sure Barbie's waist is too small, her boobs too perky, and her hair too long. But, you know she doesn't rely on Ken like she used to. She's got a career. Many of them in fact. She's got choices. And that's all I want for my girl.

In the back of my mind I know the pink princess phase is just that. A phase. If the little girls around us are any example pink is replaced by a love of all things purple, and then fades to shades of grey. And then, God forbid, darkens to black. So in reality I think I'm embracing this pastel time because it represents sweet innocence. A time when Daddy is still a hero, Mommy can make anything, and big brothers are still the authority on all things cool. I don't want it to end. And yet I am so much looking forward to experiencing all the colours of my girl. My beautelligent rainbow girl.