Neck to neck

I'd say it's a losing battle - trying to force feed gender neutrality to a toddler. I have realised that the more I try and push it, the more she pushes back, till to my (well-hidden) despair, she announced (at all of 26 months) Mamma, I like pink, I don't like blue. 

I've no idea where that came from. And I'm not even going to try and find out. So I have let her be and even indulge her predilection for trying on jewellery. (I am ashamed to admit that my love for semi-precious stones and silver has led me to acquire a rather large stash of much-loved but rarely worn baubles.)

Things came to a head the other day when K wrecked a lovely turquoise necklace (bought for Dadi - grandma) by PP from a Royal Enfield biking trip to Ladakh. The subsequent scolding didn't seem to faze her too much beyond the initial couple of minutes and a few days ago, she proceeded to snap a favourite of mine - a lovely fluorite piece that I had made for myself some years ago.

The realization came to us that she wasn't going to quit raiding jewellery. For better or worse, she is currently a girly girl. So PP had a brainwave while I was out getting a desperately needed pedicure. 

He came back with a box tucked under his arm and proceeded to spend the afternoon busy with K.

Father and daughter were busy with loom bands - the craze among young girls today - and PP created a bracelet for K which she loved. I crocheted up a neck-piece that she could wear.

The downside is feeding this early obsession with jewellery. The upside? Hopefully she will grow out of it and hey - learning that things can be made at home rather than bought is good, n'est ce pas?

got myself a crying, talking, sleeping, walking, living doll...

...except the last bit. Doll is a four-letter word. My daughter is oh-so-much-bigger than four letters can possibly encompass unless they are love, life and the like.

 

At a year old, she is showing signs of spunk and independence that make me petrified ("what am I unleashing on myself?") and proud.

 

Witness the latest today: The youngest attendee at PP's "bring your child to work day" she is too young to actually participate in the musical chairs and other activities for the 3-8 age group, but not too young to gamely toddle off toting a balloon, falling all over the place, unsurprised when said balloon bursts in her face...

 

But what made my feminist heart secretly burst with pride was when she approached the cut outs of super heroes. She determinedly pushed Superman over and though I rushed to her side with all the appropriate clucking noises, I was delighted. Superheroes are silly vigilantes who don't know enough to wear their underwear on the inside. Sure, I love them too. Like men love Barbie dolls.

 

Speaking of which, I promptly passed on the first Barbie she was gifted. Seeing one sets my teeth grinding, creating a rather interesting percussive effect. PP's first toy purchase for her was a rather cool remote controlled car which we have loads of fun with. Some of my favourite clothes for her come from the boys section.

 

It's a struggle to try and constantly be aware of doing enough and not too much. I don't want her to miss out on all the enjoyment of being a girl. Yet, I certainly don't want her to morph into a beaded bag toting, lipsticked six-year-old wearing miniature versions of adult clothing like so many young girls I see around me. 

 

So we work at it. When Dadi says "ladkiyon waale toh kaam hi nahi karti" I am delighted and tell her so because said ladkiyon vaaley kaam entail genteel behaviour. 

 

So when there is a video in which Halle Berry talks about how her baby girl breastfed like a proper little lady versus her new son who wades into it and says, boys and girls are so different, I go uh-uh, you ain't seen mine.

 

She will feed sitting in vajrasana, standing up, in downward dog, tummy on my face, lying across me, yank my clothes... you get the picture. 

 

I am happy and I hope K will continue to go after what she wants in life without worrying about being called domineering or bossy or whatever it is women get called when they are determined.