It's a.......boy?

It’s a…..boy?
Mood: Quietly cranky
Listening to: Aristocats on TV
My youngest daughter is 8 months old. She doesn’t necessarily look like a girl. Most babies don’t look specifically like their gender for quite a while. So if some cute old granny tells me how cute he is and my daughter happens to be wearing a gender questionable outfit, I really don’t mind. Honestly, I don’t. Unless we know them, I don’t usually bother to correct the person. However, most of the times this happens, my daughter is not wearing an outfit of that type. She has pierced ears. Both of them. So if she’s wearing pink, is seated in her Very Pink Car Seat, and her older sister is asking her if she’s a good girl, well ladies and gentleman, it really isn’t a brain buster. You know what they say about ducks. If it looks, quacks, and flies like a duck, it ain’t a chicken.
I know some people make a big deal out of deciding that their children won’t be biased against certain colors just because of their gender. I have nothing against little girls in blue or green or boys in red or yellow, or even a little pink. However, most people do naturally use colors that help identify gender. It’s just habit. We define our world around us with convenient parameters. Using colors is a natural method of distinction. My daughter does occasionally wear blue and green and purple. I’m not a fan of making girls and boys into overly programmed bots, but pink and lavender just mentally fit for me on girls.
I guess it’s just my mom defensive getting rubbed when people tell me how cute my child is, but don’t bother to notice what she’s wearing and sitting in.
Becky

Your Mother and You

Listening to: Alice – Smokie
Mood: Tired, but happy

I live in White Plains NY. My mom lives in Kankakee IL, and I hate it. I really wish she lived closer than an airplane flight away. (Hello free babysitting!) However, there are moments when I’m really glad she doesn’t live any closer. Now I really love my mom, but like any parent child relationship, there are moments when she drives me absolutely batty. One of these instances is the way that she can make me feel like a horrible mom for a little, unimportant thing. Like not feeding my eldest child ice cream for every meal. Now usually, it takes a feat of nature to make me question how I do things. I just have a pretty thick skin and don’t much care what other people think. I also usually listen to advice my mom gives. She isn’t the type (and indeed, this runs in the family) to give advice or encouragement very often or unsolicited. However, as happens too often, the minute my mom cut my eldest daughter’s cord and became a grandma, she suffered from amnesia and a loss of parenting common sense. For some reason, when I was younger, it would have made perfect sense to her to make me pick up my own room at 4 years old (or at least do most of it). For some reason, this logic seems to have escaped her. I was raised in a strict household. Perhaps too strict at times, but I like who I am as a result. My family wasn’t well off when I was younger either. I intend to raise my children strictly and to be respectful and thankful for what they have. My mother would never have thought to buy me even half of the ridiculous things that she sends my eldest daughter. Nor would she have let my grandparents get away with such spoilery. I know I shouldn’t compare how I was raised and how my daughters are being raised, but it’s hard for me sometimes to understand how my mom has changed so much. And why she can possibly get me to feel guilty for not buying my daughter everything she could possibly want. I’m going to tell her it’s a result of me never getting that pony that I wanted when I was 7.
Becky