Sugar and Spice…

One of my best friends and I had children around the same time, three years ago. She had a boy, I had a girl. We often commented how fun it is that we can compare being a mom of a daughter versus a son. And there are indeed big differences, as one can image, and yet more similarities still. One of the bigger differences that we have encountered, although this may be limited to just our experiences, is the idea of gender-specific roles for boys and for girls.

My little girl is a daredevil in many ways. She has never met a sofa she didn’t want to jump on, or an obstacle too tall to climb. We did have prior knowledge since her favorite activity at 4 months old was to throw herself backwards in your arms in a reckless back dive. She also loves cars and trucks and trains, and “Bob the Builder” and “Thomas the Train Engine” were both recent obsessions. Her favorite color can be orange or black or blue or pink, depending on the day (and let’s be honest, whatever color happens to be in front of her at the time). She loves to jump in puddles and poke at insects with a stick; she loves to wrestle and dig in sand until she’s a mudpie herself. Not that she’s a tomboy, because she also adores her ballet classes, twirling in front of the mirror in her skirts or dresses, and dressing up like mom. I mention all of these activities because in my mind, she is first and foremost, a child, and then a girl.

My friend on the other hand, is always apologizing when her son likes something that is considered more “girly.” My daughter recently received a furnished doll house for her birthday. My friend’s son came over for a playdate and was absolutely enraptured by it, and she apologized several times that he was playing with her doll house and mentioned that her husband would be . . . not exactly horrified, but that they would never buy their son a doll house. She had the same reaction when he played with her play kitchen, and with her Cabbage Patch Kids. At an earlier playdate, her son was soaking wet after a satisfying time at the water table, and I offered dry clothes for him to ride home. Although the shirt was burgundy and the shorts were navy and white, she grudgingly accepted the loan because the shorts were too short and looked “girly.” I could go on, but you get the idea. She has very clear gender-roles in mind for her son.

My personal favorite has been the idea that boys are not allowed to play with play kitchens. More than one of my friends has mentioned this in passing, or sometimes it is the father that objects to the play kitchen. Here are my diplomatically couched thoughts on this: (1) I hope he marries right after college so he will never have to cook for himself; (2) what are all of those world famous chefs doing being men? and (3) it’s just playtime. Seriously. He’s not going to put on a tutu and a tiara to stir that soup he’s making for his future partner.

This is something that I have noticed at more and more playdates and public play places. The idea that some toys are feminine and others are masculine. There are even masculine and feminine equivalents of the same toy. There can be Barbie Jeep cars and cameo Hummer type cars. But somehow, the girls are supposed to gravitate towards everything pink and sweet and boys are supposed to love guns and trucks. In the end though, I think kids just like to explore and imagine and be allowed to march to the their own beat.

Regardless of color or decor or type of toy, surely childhood is the brief respite we should have to live outside box and just enjoy play time. From our perspective, she can wear her hard hat and pink tutu skirt while she plays with her Thomas Train set, or sit down to tea in her purple pajamas with her vampire doll and King Kong action figure as guests. Either way, she will find her place soon enough, and we intend to enjoy every quirky moment along the way.

Our little girl is made up of sugar and spice AND snips and snails and puppy dogs tails.