Sugar and Spice

A funny thing happened on the way to this blog. For the first time since she was born, it really hit me that Finley is a girl. Yes, I know that anatomically speaking, I have been aware of her wiring since day one. And, she has more pink clothes and dresses than should be allowed. But, she really doesn’t wear dresses too much and after a while, you get used to pink.

The thing is, she’s got such a cherubic, chubby little face and crazy hair that UNLESS she’s wearing pink, most people would not be able to tell that she’s a girl. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just the way many babies are. They all wear generic onesies and pajamas and without the sex-mandated blue or pink of the clothes, the babies can come across as generic, too. Heck, we even gave her a name that would be good for a boy OR a girl.

But this past week, Heather did something to drive home the fact that OUR little Finley is in fact, a girl. She gave her pigtails. Well, not pigtails in the sense that she had little Pippi Longstocking braids, but with Finley’s thin, wispy hair it was enough to make her awfully cute… and awfully girly.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mean to make it seem like a bad thing. I guess it’s just something that had not really hit me, yet. Finley hasn’t done any particularly girl-type things. Sure, she has a doll or two, but they’re really just stuffed things to put in her mouth. Momma has put little skirts and dresses on her, but those are just things to drool on. She hasn’t been a girl. She’s just been a baby. But now, after seeing her with her little antennae, I can tell that this is just the beginning of a long, girly road.

I’m sure those dolls that are chew toys, will soon become her friends and daughters. There will be tea parties for these friends and the pushing of daughters around in little strollers. If I’m lucky, I may get to attend a tea party or two and even get to change one of her babies.

I’m sure there will be dollhouses and maybe even a Barbie or two. There might even be kitties and puppies and ponies or even a rabbit on somebody’s birthday wish list. And slowly, but not slowly enough that wish list will expand to include nail polish and lip gloss. Of course, that’s when I will defer to the Momma for expertise.

I have no problem with building a dollhouse or a cage or habitrail. I’d probably be the one cleaning up after whatever pet we get, anyway. But, when it comes to female war paint, I’m done. Because in my mind that all leads to one thing: Boys. And I’m not EVEN ready to think about that. And I sure am glad she’s not ready, either.

It turns out I have a little bit of time before that all kicks in, anyway… Before the female chromosome begins to overpower the male. I’m not sure when, exactly, that happens… When the kid decides to head in the direction of all things girl. It might be in kindergarten, when they segregate the bathrooms (Maybe that’s why women always go to the can together). At any rate, I figure I have at least two years before I get the “Daddy just doesn’t get it” look.

So, in the meantime I can still take advantage of “neutral” fun, like tickling and kissing cheeks and singing. We can watch baseball and cartoons together and Momma and I can read non gender-specific books to her. Because, at this point, Finley doesn’t care. Well, really she doesn’t know. And that’s a good thing. As long as she smiles and giggles and squeals with delight, that’s good enough for me. And as long as when she cries out in the middle of the night, she knows we’re there to comfort her, that’s fine, too. Girl things can wait. She’s got a plenty of time before she needs to worry about being a little girl. But I’ve got the rest of my life to worry about it!