Girls are girls from the minute they enter this world, I don't care what they say about nature vs. nurture.
I never brought up my daughter as a girly girl and went as far as putting a ban on pink during my pregnancy and the first half year of her life. Admittedly, a phase that did not last very long, thanks to overeager relatives (she was and still is the only female in a pretty large group of cousins) and that unstoppable process that makes parents do a string of things they swore smugly they would never do before actually becoming one.
Nevertheless, my daughter has grown up wearing pants more than dresses and "sensible" colors so that certain clothing items can be passed down to her little brother when she grows out of them. When it comes to toys, we have never denied her Barbie dolls or princess accessories, but we try to keep a pretty gender neutral approach in general.
This has not mitigated the traits in her that are so often ascribed to the female population in the least. She is a real chatterbox, extremely curious, very observant (as in nothing goes unnoticed) and loves clothes, hair, make up and jewelry. She has been known to make earrings out of stickers, paperclips, fruit and flowers and is always excited to receive the sparkly Disney merchandising I so abhor as presents. She is undeniably a girl. A jeans-clad, sneaker-wearing girl with a glittery soul.
If I wear an old sweater I haven't worn for a while I immediately get asked "Did you go shopping?". If she is in the kitchen doing her homework and I tell her brother off in the bedroom, you can bet your bottom dollar that her head will be sticking through the doorway, neck craning, to see what is happening. She can hear you say something from the other end of the apartment even if you think she is busy dancing and singing, and will come up and enquire about it with insistence. Discreet she is not.
If I wear an old sweater I haven't worn for a while I immediately get asked "Did you go shopping?". If she is in the kitchen doing her homework and I tell her brother off in the bedroom, you can bet your bottom dollar that her head will be sticking through the doorway, neck craning, to see what is happening. She can hear you say something from the other end of the apartment even if you think she is busy dancing and singing, and will come up and enquire about it with insistence. Discreet she is not.
She ooohs and aaaahs on the rare occasions I wear heels.
The other day, the minute I walked into the kitchen after getting ready, she looked up at the very thin stripe of eyeliner I had applied and exclaimed: "Mommy, that black line on your eyes is sooo pretty!". My son is still trying to find it.
