Little Girl Costumes

I came across this blog post on girl versus boy costumes. I don't know if the writer has a daughter, but she was still disgusted with the catalog of costumes that came to her house. The girls are posing prettily in their costumes with their dress shoes on, and there is a bubble over one of the girl's heads that says, "I'll be the cutest girl in Gotham!" in reference to her Batgirl costume.

I can't raise my kids in a bubble. They're going to get exposed to these ideas. That doesn't mean it's not going to upset me. It upsets me that girls learn from a young age that it's important they look attractive and cute at all times--even on Halloween.

I'm pretty sure the adult version of this is all the "sexy cop" and "slutty monster" costumes for women. I just went to Google and searched for "costume shop." I clicked the first link that popped on my search list. As of this posting, the first three costumes shown on their website are the Princess Leia Slave costume, the Army Babe Costume, and the Charming Cheetah costume. The Princess Leia Slave is, of course, wearing almost nothing. The Army Baby and Charming Cheetah are also quite revealing. What's are the first male costumes on the page? A Stormtrooper, a whale, and the Pope. All three of those costumes completely or almost-completely cover the person head-to-toe in costume.

Here are the first costumes shown on that website for men and women:

It's true that a lot of women say that they dress that way on Halloween because it makes them feel good about themselves. My point is that we're teaching women, from the time they are little girls, to feel good about themselves by making themselves look good (cute or sexy, depending on their age) for others. It's upsetting to me.

In case you're wondering, here is an image of the first costume that pops up under "girl" costumes on that same site:

                                     

Growing up, my mom always had a rule for Halloween. My sister and I had to be something scary. We understood that to mean that we couldn't dress in costumes like a bride or a princess. Our costumes through the years included a devil, a tiger, a pumpkin, a ghost, a witch, a vampire, Jason (from the horror films), and a black cat. OK, I was a panda and a sheep for a couple Halloweens, too.

Here we are back in 1991:

I plan on implementing the same rule for my daughter.

It's true that I love to doll Jo up in dresses, and I look forward to the day that I can braid her hair and put ribbons in it. However, I don't want to teach her that her ambition in life is to attract a man or to value herself as an object for viewing pleasure. The truth is this: Beauty fades. That's why it's so important not to put too much emphasis on that stuff. My daughter (and yours) should should be valued for her interests, her humor, her intelligence, and/or her skills.

Where do your opinions lie? Do you think I'm making a mountain out of a molehill? Does it disturb you to see what kind of costumes (or every day clothes) girls and young teenagers are wearing?

Girl Toys? Boy Toys?

Oliver enjoys a lot of so-called "boy" stuff. He loves firetrucks and airplanes. He has a thing for rocks and sticking his hands in mud. Oh, and let's not forget bugs. The boy loves bugs.

He also loves "girl" stuff. Oliver's most favorite thing in the world is to help me in the kitchen. His face lights up when I ask him if he could help me with the mixer. He quickly lays out a plan for us, "OK, first, you put it up on the counter. OK. I get the whisk. We'll turn it on one notch." He plays with small appliances all day, every day. They're his favorite toys.

He gets upset if he catches me cleaning without him. He wants to be the one to spray and wipe the windows. He wants to be the one to start the laundry or the dish machine. He wants to help sweep the floors.

He also loves dolls. He has his "Baby" doll, and he has Monkey (which has always been his favorite). He puts Baby in his toy shopping cart and pushes her around. When she falls out, he kisses her better. Sometimes, he tells me she needs a new diaper, and he grabs a baby wipe and wipes the doll's bum. He shares his food with all of his stuffed animals (Elmo's mouth is stained with yogurt). I think it's so sweet to watch him with his dolls. Currently, he has a checklist of five dolls that he has to sleep with: Monkey, Doggy, Baby, Elmo, and Nanas (another monkey).

Here Oliver is, wrapped up with Monkey in his monkey blanket:

It's too early to tell what Jo's passions really are, but, right now, her favorite activity is playing blocks. She sits and plays blocks with Andrew for half an hour at a time. That's a long time for a baby! Andrew builds towers, and she knocks them over. I'm pretty sure playing blocks with Dad is what makes her happiest.

The other day, I teased Andrew and asked, "So, you don't mind that your son likes dolls and your daughter likes blocks?" He smiled at me and told me he loves what they love.

Andrew swears up and down that he will get into whatever his kids get into. If he needs to buy a mitt or a tutu, if he needs to build a climbing wall or a doll house, he'll do it.

It's true that I love dolling Jo up in little dresses, and I look forward to the day when I can braid her hair and tie it in little piggies. But if the day ever comes that Jo tells me she doesn't want curls and bows, I'll listen. I want to support my children in whatever interests they choose for themselves instead of pushing them into activities that are seen as gender appropriate.

On the other hand, I want my children to be proud of who they are. I'm a woman, and I love being a woman. Not only do I want my son to know it's OK to be a boy, I want him to be proud that he's a boy. I want my daughter to be proud she's a girl. It does no one any good to be ashamed of who they are. It's just my opinion that liking dolls doesn't make my son any less of a boy. It just makes him a boy who likes dolls. I can be proud of that, and so can he.

What do you think? Should little kids be taught what activities and toys are "appropriate" for little girls and little boys, or do you think that holds them back? Would you worry about your child getting picked on if he/she wanted to play with toys typical for the opposite gender?

Health Scare

This morning, I woke up and found that I was bleeding. I had passed a decent amount of bright red blood. It was only one episode, and the blood stopped. Terrified for my pregnancy, Andrew took me to the urgent care a few miles from our house.

The doctor spoke to me for a while and then ordered an ultrasound. I was glad she'd ordered it because I wanted to see that the baby was moving and had a heart beat. I was also terrified of what it could show.

When the ultrasound tech wheeled me into the ultrasound room, I could feel my stomach do a flip-flop. I felt so afraid of what I was about to see. It turns out, I didn't have to be afraid. The little one was wiggling all around, doing flips and rolls and moving all about! The tech also checked the heart rate, which read 154. That's a healthy rate!

After checking other parts of my body, from the cervix to the ovaries, the tech announced to me that my first ultrasound tech was right. We are having a girl! I was trying not to have ugly cries at that point. Our baby was OK, I was OK, and our baby's a girl!

The doctor later let me know that it looked like there was a very small separation of the placenta from the wall. She said it can heal if I take it easy, and it's important I don't make it worse. She told me I shouldn't bend over too much, and I shouldn't lift heavy things. She said I need to carry Oliver as little as possible and try not to pick up objects heavier than five pounds. She said I shouldn't do a lot of housework and shouldn't do strenuous exercise. She said I don't need to be on complete bed rest, but I do need to rest and try to heal.

My mom came and spent the rest of the day with me, helping Oliver adjust to a life of not being carried all the time. Thankfully, the little man has done quite well for himself. He looked so proud holding my hand and crossing the parking lot to the car to go home! It's going to be a rough few months for him, but I'm going to do everything I can to have a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby girl.

Positive

Last night, I drank about four cups of decaf and had to go to the bathroom every 20 minutes. On one of those occasions, I stared at the box of pregnancy tests in front of me. There were three in the pack, so I reasoned that using one wouldn't hurt anything. So, I did. As soon as I did, I cursed myself. Of course it wouldn't work because I was peeing nonstop. How could there be any hormone in my urine? Dang it.

Still, I wanted to look and just see what the test said. After all, the box claimed that 100% of pregnant women test positive four days before their missed period (I bought a new brand). I waited and waited and finally looked. Negative. I never thought I'd be so disappointed, but I just wanted to cry. How silly, I know, especially since I knew I'd retest in the morning.

I kept pathetically looking at my test to see if it would change when I decided I noticed a very faint, almost non-existent line. Seriously. If I held it at a normal angle, I couldn't see it at all. But, if I held it up to the light and turned it just so, I could see a faint line. It was so faint, I wasn't certain. I grabbed the box and looked at the illustration. Sure enough, the line in the illustration was exactly where I was seeing the kind-of line on my test. I ran to Andrew and asked him if he could see it. At first, he couldn't. Then, he took it to the kitchen where the light was bright and played with the angles. Finally, he agreed with me, "I do see it!"

Unlike the last test, the lines on this one were pink. The last test was blue, and the color of the faint line looked like a shadow. You can't mistake pink for a shadow! I was excited but also wondered if our eyes could be playing tricks on us. I mean, seriously, I'd look at it and not see the line at all, and then I'd turn it every which way and finally get a glimpse of a hint of a line. I knew we wouldn't be convinced until the morning.

So, this morning, after Oliver woke me up at 6am, we made our way downstairs. I took the test right away. The control line popped up, and I couldn't help but stare at the test to see if the "pregnant" line would pop. After about 30 seconds, Oliver got frustrated with me for not helping him make coffee, so I set the test down and got to work with Oliver. Two more minutes passed quickly, and I went back to the bathroom.

Positive.

No confusion, no shadow of a line, 100% positive. I felt surprise, delight, anxiety, overwhelmed, wonderful. I looked at Oliver who was shoving Froggy and his music toys into the washing machine and I said aloud, "Two. We're going to have two."

I gave Andrew another half hour to sleep, and then Oliver and I went upstairs. He wandered off to play with his gears (a toy he loves), and I crawled into bed with Andrew. I cuddled him and announced, "You're going to be a father of two."

He rolled over, snuggled me, and asked, "Was it clear this time?" I told him it was, and he fell back asleep. Later that morning, he insisted he knew he'd be successful after the first try. I said, "Now the only thing I want to know is if you gave me a little X or a little Y!"

Andrew had joked previously that he can only make boys. His parents had two children, both boys, and his father has only one sibling, a brother. His paternal grandfather was orphaned after his family died from disease, so Oliver's whole paternal lineage has had only male children.

Obviously, I know that it's nearly 50/50 to have a boy or girl (actually, I think the statistic is 53% chance to have a girl), but it seems like some people really do seem more likely to have one sex over another. I have a first cousin, Dina, who has eight children, and they are all boys. All of them. Isn't that wild?

I really am dying to know if we'll have a boy or a girl (16 more weeks until we find out!). For me, I'd like a girl. I have a good relationship with my mother, and she was always close to her mother, who was always close to her mother. I see these relationships, and I want it to continue. I want a daughter. On the other hand, having a daughter means we'd have to move eventually (we live in a two bedroom townhome). I don't want to move. I love our townhome, and I could picture Andrew and I staying here our whole lives. Seriously. Plus, if we have two boys, they have the potential to be best friends, whereas a boy and a girl will be in separate activities (all sports and activities seem to be divided into boys and girls) and have separate friends. A girl would also involve buying a whole new wardrobe.

I know my personality, and I know I'm going to be happy with whichever we have. I know if the doctor says, "It's a boy," I'm going to be instantly relieved and happy that we won't have to change our lives much, that we won't have to worry about moving. However, I know if the doctor says, "It's a girl," I'm going to be delighted to know that I'll have a daughter to raise and know. I won't say our boy's name now, but I will say our girl's name. If we have a girl, her name will be Joanna Elizabeth, named after my grandmother.

It's a Boy!

It's a boy! Boy, oh boy! Andrew and I went to the OB, where we met our parents (Andrew's dad had to go out of town for work unfortunately). Dr. Oster was called away to deliver a baby, so we waited (and waited). I didn't mind so much, but I wasn't supposed to pee before the ultrasound. Wooie.

We got into the ultrasound room, and she started looking for the baby. She first thing she found was his butt. Its butt was definitely more like Andrew's. Then she went down the legs and commented, "Those are really long legs." Haha, that's not exactly from my gene pool.

I was pretty sure I saw some boy parts when she went down the legs. She asked me if I had any idea what I was having. I said, "I was pretty sure it was a girl until you started the ultrasound. Now I think I saw a ball sack." She told me I was right and took some photos of the baby's boy parts for proof.

She then scanned over the baby and showed us his heart (all 4 chambers, sweet), and looked at his brain and spine. She checked out the umbilical cord and said everything looks perfect. Also, she said our baby has a stomach and has learned to swallow. Hurray! I'm glad all my tiredness has paid off so far into creating a beautiful baby boy.
From the waist down, the baby certainly takes after Andrew. It has his legs and butt, and I told him, "He sure didn't get a penis from me." It'll be fun to see our little boy in person after he's born to check out all of his other traits.

I'm so happy. So's Andrew, and so are our families. We started calling people almost right away. Andrew called his dad, and Colleen called Grandma Jackie. After Andrew and I got to talk a bit in the car, I called my brother and sister, and he called his brother.

Most people were just as sure as I was that we were having a girl. The only two who seemed confident that it was a boy? Julie and Colleen's good buddy, Jean.

Now it's time to work on names :)

Today is Here!

We've been counting down the weeks and finally the days, but today is here! My ultrasound is scheduled for 4:15pm, and we're going to find out if we're expecting a little boy or a little girl. I'm so excited!

These last few weeks have been weeks of change. My body is getting quite large. I've gained 13 pounds so far, but it's all tummy. It's getting harder to sleep, and my hips are frequently sore. I still have no nausea or constipation, thankfully. But also, I don't feel the baby move. I'm pretty disappointed at that. All my books inform me that people typically feel their babies move at 16-20 weeks. Saturday, I'll hit 21 weeks and still nothing.

Andrew's been reading my What to Expect. I saw him reading the delivery chapters yesterday, and I wonder if he's as nervous as me. I find myself singing a lot to Baby, hoping it'll get to know my voice. Andrew introduced himself to Baby the other day, and when he referred to himself as "Daddy," I almost teared up.

But, yes, today's the day. My parents and Andrew's mom are coming with us to the doctor. Paul, unfortunately, was called out of town for work, so he won't be able to make it.

Me, I still think our baby's a girl, but if they tell me it's a boy, I'll be happy and surprised. They'll also look at all its organs again. I get nervous whenever they look for abnormalities. So, yeah, I'm nervous for the appointment, but also insanely excited.

Andrew's making me a breakfast burrito this morning. I do my best to eat eggs and cheese and such. Frankly, fruits sound better and better every day, and everything else pales in comparison. I even dreamed about fruit yesterday... yum.