This is how it starts

Apr 28, 2008 15:30

We recorded an episode of Bob the Builder during the Week We Let the TV Raise the Baby*. I resisted showing it to Lillian, a LOT. For DAYS. Because it is a boy show.

I bought her shoes that did not stay on securely, that interfered with her ability to run and play, because the only shoes that DID stay on securely were olive drab and navy, or black and silver, or brown and orange. Boy shoes. Mind you, my comfy shoes are white and navy, and I am not a boy.

Months ago, I let her pick out a book at the bookstore. She chose a book called "I Love Trucks." I almost put it back. Because it is a boy book.

What the hell is wrong with me?!!? How can I purge this awful instinct, which if I saw it in anyone else I would rant about it for hours? She's not a living doll to dress up, she's a human being, a strong, tough human being who loves to play rough. Ack.

*ETA: I've been horribly sick with a throat virus and opportunistic staph infection of the tonsils. I'm a stay-at-home mom, so when I get sick, the only relief pitcher is the TV. Trust me, I'm not happy about it either.
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