Lamenting Little Girls?

Something strange happened to me the other day.  I don't mean strange as in, "Gee, that's never happened before."  Contrarily, I've gone through this conversation many times in the relatively short time that I've been a mom.  Rather, it was strange in the, "Why would anyone say that?" kind of way.

A woman, a mother of three BOYS, was asking me about my kids.  I tell her I have three daughters and...she apologizes!  Not sympathizing because she has three of the same gender too, but specifically pitying me for having girls instead of boys.  It wasn't the first time and I know I'll hear it again someday.  Why are we, in a society trying to promote gender equality across the board, feeling bad for people who have daughters?

What message is this sending?  I'm far from being a feminist, but I can see how this is a problem.  How are we going to make little girls feel strong and proud and on level ground with boys if we are going to hold this archaic mindset that boys are the coveted sex?  And who says having little girls means I'm living in a world of pink and tea parties and princess movies on a loop?

More snails and puppy dog tails than sugar and spice, I'd say.

It's one thing to want a little bit of a change from what you're used to.  I admit I might've mentioned once or twice hoping that little W was a boy.  The first day or two I might've even been slightly disappointed (but that's a completely different story.  post-partum hormones are a nightmare).  Today, I couldn't imagine things any other way, just as I assume a mom of three boys would say.  When people would approach me and say, "Now you need a boy."  Or "Sam, you need to have a boy.  You NEED a boy in your life," I'd ask them why?  Are all girls so similar and so stuck in their gender roles that they won't be interesting and multi-faceted enough to "allow" me a diverse parenting experience?

Hardly.  

I have a princess.  I have a basketball player.  I have a mommy's girl.  And in each of them, I have more than what you see on the surface.  Like every other human being on this planet, they have layers to their budding selves and who knows what they'll be a year, five years, ten years from now.  I encourage what they love, from stereotypical girl all the way to "tomboy".  In fact, growing up I was the farthest thing from being girly, which I attribute to being raised by a dad and a grandpa, and only brothers.  They made me tough, they made me strong, which girls are very capable of being.  Today, I split logs with my dad, I enjoy fishing, I will wear a dress and even enjoy it in the proper setting, I am learning how to make hair "pretty" and I can change a tire. 

....learning, I said I'm still learning.  There's a curve, people.

Am I expecting a rocky patch while they are teenagers?  Of course.  I remember how moody girls can be, not necessarily because I gave my own parents a hard time, but because I was friends with a few girls in school (I apologize to any high school friends reading this.  But you can't deny it).  And just as I differed from other girls at 15 and 16, I'm sure one or two of my daughters may slam doors and cry at the drop of a hat, and the other(s) may be a breeze.  No matter what, I hope that they feel free to express themselves in whichever way suits them best, just as I would if they were boys.  

Make no mistake about it.  That tear is less emotion and more calculated manipulation.

So if you see us making our way through Target on some random Tuesday, don't throw me that pitying look.  Don't come up and ask if we're going to keep trying for a boy.  If you want to ask them their names, how old they are, compliment A on her dress, smile and coo at W or marvel at N's counting skills, feel free.  But don't feel bad for me because I have daughters.  I don't feel bad.  

Remember, someday this little girl will have your little boys wrapped around her finger; she will take over the world one heartbreak at a time.  Or on her own merit.  Who knows?  They will destroy all expectations of them based on gender roles, and I will watch the surprise of the unsuspecting and laugh and laugh and laugh.