I have always been a tree-climbing worm-catching kind of girl. Being dirty and disheveled is actually a virtue in my opinion- proof that one has had a good, productive day. When I was young, I much preferred riding bikes and playing soccer with the boys over Barbies and makeup.
So wouldn't you know it, my firstborn happened to be a girly girl. She doesn't just really really really like the color pink... as if that wouldn't be bad enough. She likes (loves loves loves!) any and everything flowery, lacy, pretty, clean, and feminine.
Honestly I never really thought it was anything special to be a girl. It was something I accepted, put up with, but never saw any reason to celebrate. In fact, things too girly have always been the objects of hearty, snorty laughter on my part.
Then I had a baby. The lightbulb started going on even before I knew she was a girly girl. I remember being pregnant and looking at maternity clothes, and I said out loud "Oh, this is nice and feminine!" (My old self said WHAT did you just say?) As my belly grew I was absolutely amazed at the wonder of it all. I even began wearing mascara, EVERY DAY, and enjoying it!
What has happened to me? Now my little Lorraine is eight years old, and she and her siblings have opened my eyes to the joys of being a woman. It is not just having babies, it is nurturing, mothering, making the world around you welcoming and yes, even beautiful. I am only beginning to learn about these things, but every now and then I give in to my princesses, and play along with them as their Queen Mommie.