Sugar & Puppy Dog Tails

When we first told people we were starting the adoption process, the most common question we heard was "Can you pick whether it's a boy or girl?".  (Close second and third...."Wow...how much does that cost?" and "Oh...from China?")  Now that we are matched, the first question we get is "Do you know whether she's having a boy or girl?," and the second is "Well, when will you find out?".

Well, dear readers, dear questioners one and all....the answers are now "Yes." and "Today."  Oh you are all atwitter, aren't you?  It's a g....reat, strong heartbeat!  It's a b....eautiful, healthy baby!

Relax, I'm going to tell you. But first you have to read my thoughts on gender and children.  And no skipping ahead to the end.  I'm watching you...

There's actually been a lot of talk lately in pop culture news about gender and babies.  In case you missed it, some parents in Toronto have decided not to reveal the sex of their newborn, and plan to raise the child essentially without gender.  There has been all sorts of media firestorm over it, much of which includes bad puns about the baby's (bad) name, "Storm."

Now, I can understand the desire to try to protect your child from gender stereotypes.  Put a pink hat on a baby in the nursery at work, and it's all "Look at that princess!", "What beautiful eyelashes!", and "Oh Daddy, watch out when she's sixteen, the boys are gonna come a-knocking!".  Blue hat on the same kid, and suddenly it becomes "Who's a handsome boy?", "Oh, aren't you a strong little guy, grabbing my finger like that!", and "Oh hush now, don't cry, that shot didn't hurt you".  It's not right, it's not accurate, but it's so ingrained, hardly anyone bats an eye at the underlying messages that are being sent.

But the truth of the matter is, for the vast majority of us, gender is a part of who we are.  Some people's gender may not match their sex.  Other people are comfortable in their gender, but not comfortable in the very strict parameters society tries to place upon that gender.  And yes, many people are quite comfortable in their gender, their expression of that gender sits solidly within what society dictates, and they probably never give it a second thought.  But forcing a baby into a genderless box seems no better than forcing the same baby into a  strictly gendered box.

I was a very gendered child.  I loved ballet, and twirled around the living room in my nightgown to the sounds of my music box, performing mini-recitals for my parents each night before bed.  They wisened up and put me in ballet class soon after.  My favorite toys were my beloved Barbie dolls, and I built an entire world for them throughout my room.  My mom's one requirement was that I clear a path from the door to my bed at night, so she wouldn't break her neck tripping over Barbies if she had to come in in the dark to console me after a nightmare.  When she tried to encourage me to go outside, get dirty, and play in the summer sun, I brought my Barbies with me, and pretended they were on lush tropical vacation in the front yard.  I was terrible at riding my bike.  I hated anything involving throwing, catching, or a competitive edge.  I cried when my mom told me I'd have to wear pants to school one day a week in first grade, because we were going to start having this horrible thing called "gym class".  I loved playing dress up, both as a game and in my daily clothing choices.

Still today, I take pride in matching my purse to my shirt to my shoes, and am bemused by my friends who comment on it, thinking it was a sheer coincidence.  I gave up my Barbie collection decades ago, but I still love decorating the house, and would like planting flowers (aka decorating the yard) a whole lot more if there weren't so much physical exertion involved.

And yet, on the regular, Amber says to me "You are such a dude."

And she's right.  In so much as my outer persona is very feminine, my internal workings skew a little more typically masculine.  I not only leave my dirty dishes in the sink, I don't even see that they are there.  I have learned to make frantic runs around the house on my days off, fifteen minutes before Amber comes home, to reverse the damage of Hurricane Michelle....underwear and towel on the bathroom floor; three pairs of shoes in the middle of the living room; dishes from lunch AND breakfast still on the table next to the computer.  And I promise, if I pee'd standing up, I would most definitely leave the seat up when I was done.  But, I'm not just a slob.  I'm also very pragmatic, prefer logic over emotion, and don't spend much time worrying about what other people think of me.  I've never thought I was bad at math, or that science was off limits to me as a career.  In fact, I was in college before I found out that some people thought women couldn't do anything and everything that men could do, and even then, I wasn't entirely convinced.

In respect to genderedness, Amber is--as with most things--my exact opposite.  I often think this is why we make such a perfect couple.  For every action we are each other's equal and opposite reaction, each other's yin and yang, each other's "split apart", so to speak.

Amber's worst childhood memory was being forced to dance to "I Heard it Through the Grapevine" in a ballet recital (an opportunity I would have relished!).  Instead she loved team sports, from soccer to basketball, to her beloved softball.  She's broken 13 bones in her life, in part because she's clumsy, but also because she was just an active child.  We both had skateboards as a child.  Amber actually skated on hers, and broke a wrist in the process.  I laid on mine on my belly, and rolled around the basement practicing various ice dancing poses, no real safety risk there.  Amber loved video games and Micro Machines.  Sure, she treated her Micro Machines like baby dolls, named them, and made them into families (Now that I think of it, I'm pretty sure Disney owes her some royalties on that whole "Cars" phenomenon), but they were among her favorite toys, nonetheless.

But for as much as I'm a "dude", Amber is the quintessential "girl" on the inside.  She is more sensitive, more emotional, and more in tune with other people's feelings than I am.  She is a domestic goddess, far surpassing me in skills of cooking, cleaning, and general homemaking.  She is friendly, and chatty, and warm with most everyone she meets.  She may wear cargo shorts all summer long, but her legs are always slathered in some scented lotion, and she's been known to jump up in the middle of the night to go shave her legs because she can't stand the feel of stubble.  Her hair is always perfectly coiffed, and she runs through more hairspray in a single day than I do in an entire month.

We have been so looking forward to finding out whether this child is a boy or a girl.  Not because we were hoping for one or the other.  Not because it would change much of anything about the way we parent.  But, simply because we are excited for the next step in this process, for one more thing to know about this child.

Either way, between the two of us, I think we have this child and all the various expressions of gender covered.  For us, video games aren't just for boys.  Gymnastics isn't just for girls.  Yellow is a great favorite color for any child, and so is purple.  Reading is for every child.  Play kitchens, art tables, and mini basketball hoops fit in well in any nursery.  And above all else, whatever our child's interests, talents, and desires are, those are the things we will celebrate and encourage.

Not only can you grow up to be whatever you want, you can be whatever you want while you're growing up, too.

For our daughter, those will be words to live by.

x's and o's,

Michelle