i never in all my life dreamed i'd ever talk so much about pink and dolls and girly stuff

When I was a young girl, I wasn't a big fan of being a girl. I wanted to be a boy. I refused to wear dresses. I hated playing with dolls. I wanted to ride a BMX bike and play soccer. I wanted little girly girls everywhere to quit whining and acting so damn ... girly.

 

And then, a lifetime later, I found out I was going to be having a girl of my own. My dreams of becoming a mom were about to come true and they would involve Momming a girl.

 

A GIRL.

 

Both Taye and I agreed on limiting the pink stuff. We both agreed she would be who she was and not on the account of what we or the media tells her to be.

 

So her room was very gender neutral--yellow and green and brown. Her clothes and books and toys had very little pink in them. It wasn't easy to stay clear of pink, but it was doable for sure.

 

Then, this little baby started growing, and she started talking and walking and conveying to the world what she liked, who she was:

 

A pink-loving, baby doll-doting, dress/tutu-wearing girly girl.

 

At first, I cringed at all the pink she insisted on. She wanted pink toys, pink books, pink dolls, pink dresses, pink shoes, a pink bike. The more pink she was submerged in, the happier she was.

 

While I cringed at the infiltration of pink in my life, seeing my baby grow into the person she is made the pink very much okay. I can deal with it. The pink, the dolls, the dresses, the ballet, the squeals, the drama. I can deal with it all while wearing a huge smile on my face because I know my girl is who she is because that's who she wants to be. Yes, I've heard her say things like, "Oh that's a boy show" or something, but I've always told her there really wasn't such things only for boys or only for girls. If she wanted to wear boots and play in the mud, she could. If she wanted to wear a tutu and have a tea party, she could. I would and will support her in whatever she likes.

 

So when I saw that House Party was having an American Girl doll party that would provide the chosen hosts with a Bitty Baby doll in exchange for the host throwing a tea party... I absolutely knew this was something I had to do. So I applied and I was giddy. And then I was chosen to host, and I felt these waves of warm sunshine enrapture me because I knew my girly girl would be ecstatic.

 

 

 

 

For weeks now I've been telling Lovie how we were going to have a tea party with her little friends and her new baby doll that would be coming soon. And yesterday, she finally got to meet her new baby.

And a week from tomorrow, we'll finally have our tea party--our pink infused tea party.

And I can't wait!



*Neither House Party nor American Girl asked me to write this. There is no charge to join House Party. I paid nothing for the box of goodies I received. I'm simply stating my opinion on the horrid color of pink and whatever else is posted here. ;)

Daddy's Girl

These two:

They own my heart.

Especially when I see them together.

Last night Taye got home maybe 10 minutes after Lovie and me. This doesn't happen often. Maybe once every other month. More than not, Taye doesn't get home till after Lovie is in bed. Maybe once a week, he makes it home right at bedtime.

Last night we knew Taye wasn't going to be late, but we didn't know how early he'd be. So when Lovie saw him standing there in the laundry room (where the back entrance is)... it was like the heavens had opened up and shined a light on just the two of them. She screamed DADDY! and ran and leapt into his arms and just hugged him and hugged him. Then she looked over at me with the hugest smile before squeezing Taye again. They stood in the doorway hugging for at least four minutes. I should've gotten a camera because it was truly such a beautiful moment but I didn't think it would last as long as it did.

They both were so incredibly happy to just be there in that moment in time. Nothing spectacular going on in the day, no special reason. Just Daddy getting home from work a little early and his baby girl happy to see him.

This is what it's all about. These tiny little insignificant moments.

gush

“She seems so much older than three.”

 

I’ve been hearing this a lot lately.

 

Granted Lovie is just three months shy of four, but still, she’s three.

 

 

The girl has quite the vocabulary and can talk your ear off. She’s been like this since before two, believe it or not. Now though, she’s added spelling and writing her name and a few other words to the mix. And she absolutely loves all books (still), including books on CD in the car and at bedtime.

 

She’s a very smart girl who catches on immediately. She absorbs everything. And I do mean everything (as do most littles).

 

So I think that’s why people have been saying that she seems older than she is.

 

taking over piano duty at the grocery store

 

 

I generally just smile when people interact with her; I find it quite entertaining to watch when it happens, which is pretty much wherever we go. If you give her the time of day, she’ll find something to chat about. She’s a lot like her dad in that respect.

 

 

 

 

I’m glad she’s so social and verbal and communicative. I really am. I’m so proud of her I can’t even put it into words.

 

And my love for her? It truly does expand each and every day. How that’s possible, I have no freaking idea, but it truly does.

 

 

 

Still, when I hear people comment that she seems so much older than she is, a part of me worries. I suppose that’s because I’m a natural born worrier--people have been telling me all my life that I worry too much.

 

I just really want her to love life and live life to the fullest. I don’t want her to seem older because her youth was snatched from her.

 

I don’t want her to become me.

 

But I know she’s not me. I know she’s oh so different than me. She likes pink and dresses and princesses and ballet and tea parties and ponies.

 

 

 

She’s super outgoing and so much fun.

 

So it’s okay that she seems older. Because I know her childhood is still intact. I know her innocence and sense of wonder still remains. And I will do all that I can to ensure that it remains for a long, long time.

 

 

 

It’s just that I want her to remember jumping on the bed...having a popsicle for breakfast on Sunday morning...watching one more episode of Team Umizoomi before bed.

 

I want her to look back fondly on her youth.

 

I want a smile to shine on that gorgeous face when someone talks about childhood and she starts to reminisce.

 

 

I just need to let go of my insecurities from my own childhood, and try not to read into what people say about Lovie.

 

She seems older, yes, but she’s three and a half. Just ask her, she’ll tell you.

 

 

Throwback Thursday: yeah, she's definitely mine.

There's no denying this little is mine.

 

On the left are photos of photos of me when I was itty bitty, once upon a time, 41 years ago (so glad they had color back then!). On the right are photos of my sweet Lovie from three years ago. As you can see, she's kinda my mini me. 

But that's really the only things that are similar between us. She's all girl, all dresses and skirts, all pink, all the time. I'm not anything like that. It's odd how very different she is... but it's also freaking awesome. I love that, at only 3 years and 8 months, this little chica knows who she is and loves who she is: All Girl.

My girl.

so in love

I fell in love with my nephew Jordan when he was around Lovie's current age (3.5+). Of course I loved him when he was born 21+ years ago, but I fell in love with him around 3.5 or 4. I'm guessing that's partly due to the fact that his parents were very much wrapped up in their own turmoil and paid no mind to the children at that time. You know, because kids are so clueless and all.

Then when Jordan was barely 4 and his mom left, I took over as mom. I just had to do it because I promised myself that I would never allow a child in my life (biologically mine or not) to be poorly effected by divorce. I knew I wasn't a cure-all, but I also knew that I would do anything I could to protect their innocence.

I learned a lot from the four years I lived with Jordan... but most importantly, I learned about unconditional love and guidance and nurturing. And how children are incredibly amazing little sponges. I also realized that I absolutely had to become a parent one day. 

It's been over three and a half years now since all of my dreams have come true. Honest to god. No, it's not all roses and puppy dogs and sweet snuggles and giggles. But, overall... it kind of is.

these two & this picture ... what's not to love?

Lovie is my absolute everything, and while Jordan is "only" my nephew and not technically my child, there will always be a special place for him in my heart.

Being a mom is the greatest gift ever. I feel immensely blessed on a daily basis.