Dreaming in color.
I wish that the prospect of pink, frilly things didn't thrill me so. I want my children to determine their own identities- based on what is in their minds and not, necessarily, what is between their legs. However, in the day-to-day living of life, I'm afraid that I am horribly guilty of gender-typing. And, in my imagination, my fetus is already a tutu wearing girly-girl.
When people ask us what [sex] we want, Brad honestly replies that he is hoping for another boy. I lie and say that I do not care as long as baby is healthy. The truth is, I've been dreaming of sugar and spice ever since we started trying to conceive.
I don't know why I am finding myself so enamoured with the idea of having a daughter. I've never been a fan of floofy dresses, sparkly things, or the color pink. I've always preferred male friends to female friends; and, even when I've worked with children in the past, I preferred playful, little boys to cat-fighting, little girls.
I suppose my fantasy would be something of more nobility if I'd actually stopped to consider the opportunity to nurture a powerful, young feminist. Sadly, though, my notions have been mostly made up of the shallow stuff that I usually despise in my own gender.
We found out today that we will mostly likely not be able to peek at baby's sex organs before birth. Our major ultrasound is scheduled a few weeks too soon. This revelation has given me reason to question the dimwit delusions I have been having. I am remembering what matters, and what doesn't.
Penis or vagina (or both!), I will buy pink. I will buy blue. I will fill my child's mind with the myriad of choices that she/he deserves. This world is biased enough to begin with.
When people ask us what [sex] we want, Brad honestly replies that he is hoping for another boy. I lie and say that I do not care as long as baby is healthy. The truth is, I've been dreaming of sugar and spice ever since we started trying to conceive.
I don't know why I am finding myself so enamoured with the idea of having a daughter. I've never been a fan of floofy dresses, sparkly things, or the color pink. I've always preferred male friends to female friends; and, even when I've worked with children in the past, I preferred playful, little boys to cat-fighting, little girls.
I suppose my fantasy would be something of more nobility if I'd actually stopped to consider the opportunity to nurture a powerful, young feminist. Sadly, though, my notions have been mostly made up of the shallow stuff that I usually despise in my own gender.
We found out today that we will mostly likely not be able to peek at baby's sex organs before birth. Our major ultrasound is scheduled a few weeks too soon. This revelation has given me reason to question the dimwit delusions I have been having. I am remembering what matters, and what doesn't.
Penis or vagina (or both!), I will buy pink. I will buy blue. I will fill my child's mind with the myriad of choices that she/he deserves. This world is biased enough to begin with.