girl.

I wasn’t supposed to be a mom to a girl.

I wasn’t really supposed to be a mom at all, actually.

But.

Not a day goes by that I’m not eternally grateful that not only am I a mom, but I’m a mom to a girl. 

When I found out Lovie was a girl, I honestly was a little disappointed. Not a lot. Not even enough to mention, truthfully; but if I’m honest, I would have to reveal that yes, there was a tinge of disappointment that she would not be a he. It’s just that, in the moment the ultrasound tech told us “it was a girl”, I had this vomit-inducing image of all kinds of pink crap. And high-pitched squeals. And dresses, painted nails, Barbie dolls, etc.

Like I said it was sincerely a fleeting moment that was over as soon as I realized that my baby was HEALTHY and that I was going to finally become a mom.

The first year of Lovie’s life was great. I mean, it’s always been great. Of course, there are always moments when it’s exhausting or whatnot but overall, being Lovie’s mom is the absolute greatest gift I’ve ever been given. I feel like I’m the luckiest person in the world having her as my child. And during that first year of her life when she wasn’t able talk much or have opinions of her own, it wasn’t too difficult to avoid the pink invasion I fretted over when I first learned she’d be a Girl.

Then she turned one.

And she got gifted her very first baby doll, which she toted around for months.

And it was the sweetest thing I had ever in all my life seen: My sweet little baby doll loving on her very own baby doll.

Soon it became clear that no matter how neutral we made Lovie’s surroundings, clothes, toys… she was all girl.

She is all girl.

My Lovie is absolutely every single thing I envisioned the moment I found out she was a girl.

Thank God.

i hope you dance

Yesterday marked Lovie's first full month as a four year old. I kind of want to come here and gush about how awesome it is having a four year old, but I'm terrified of jinxing myself. Three was good for us-- but trying. Especially the first half of three. Oh boy is Trying a nice word to describe the first half of three. Two was not terrible at all for us. Much like one.

It's been a pure joy to mama this kid. Sure there are not-so-fun times but really? Not really! It's been a joy. I'm so blessed.

Anyhow

Next Saturday Lovie and her dad are going to a Daddy Daughter Dance. How freaking adorable is that going to be?

This is what she's wearing. Now, prepare yourself because if you know me at all, you know how anti-pink/girly/glittery/fluffy/princess I am... so ... hopefully you're sitting down.

Ready? You've been warned.

The dress:

The tights:

The shoes:

I picked the dress (and the tights) up today from Macy's (and the shoes from Payless). Um. The dress is even pink-er/girly-er/glittery-er/fluffy-er/princess-er than it looks in the photo. Like I almost didn't recognize it because it's SOOOO all those things.


And it's absolutely perfect for Lovie.

a couple conversations and a quick tea party review

"Mama, am I still three and a half?"

"Yes, baby. You've got a couple more months till you're four. Remember, first there's Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas, then right after Christmas is..."

"My birthdaaaaaaay!"

"Yup."

"And for my birthday, I want to hang a pinyana at the jumpy house."

"A piñata?"

"Yes, a pinyana. Because yesterday the other day when we went to Target to get you coffee, Daddy and me saw the pinyana and that's what I want at my birthday party in the room with the pizza and cake not by the jumpy things."

"You got it, love."

"Mama, your hair is still white."

"Yes, you're right. It is. Why?"

"Well you can't be my mommy wif white hair."

"I will always always always always be your mommy, you hear?"

"But if your hair isn't like mine then you can't be my mommy."

"Well maybe I'll color it green."

Lovie looks at me, mouth ajar as I smile.

"I'll still be your mama with green or white or no hair."

 

****************************************

The Bitty Baby Tea Party was quite the success.

 

Seven little girls, all dolled up with their baby dolls. Tea party sets to play with. Finger foods. Cupcakes.

Lots of pink and purple, lots of giggles (and a little drama), lots and lots of fun.

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. ;)

girliest girly girl

“Mama I want my hair like that,” Lovie said from the back seat of the car.

“Like what?”

“Like that,” she answered, pointing toward a building we idled next to while at a red light.

 

I followed her point and saw an image of a woman with her hair all pulled to the back of her head and a big-ass flower holding it all together.

“With a flower,” she added. “A pink one.”

“Oh okay,” I answered. “We can try that some time,” I lied.

 

When I envisioned having children, I saw them running around kicking a soccer ball. I saw them digging in the mud. And playing with cars. And riding bikes.

 

this was taken at picture day for her big dance recital. she was woken from a nap to attend and wasn't too happy to wake up. don't let the face fool you--she's enamored by the gaudy costume.

 

I never once saw them putting on ballet slippers and twirling about in a tutu. I never once saw them playing with baby dolls and loving the color pink. But that’s who Lovie is. She’s ballet and pink and flowers and dollies. She’s all girl. And I love her so much and, truth be told, I’m growing to like the ballet and pink and flowers and dollies, too. I am. But I still can’t help but to think WHO IS THIS CHILD when she oozes girlyness.

dressed all in pink, wanting pink flowers. of course.

 

It still baffles me how crazy girly she is. I mean, she even now does this high pitched squeal thing when something cracks her up on TV. Just like a girl.

riding her big wheel with her first flower FROM A BOY tucked over her shoulder.

 

My girl.

My pink-loving, tutu-wearing, not-wanting-to-get-dirty girly girl.