Before I get to what I wanted to talk about today I feel like I need to apologise for being rather sporadic with my posting. I just reached thirty weeks and tiredness has set in but all is going well and I feel like I am on the home stretch which is nice and I will try to be a little more consistent in my writing.

Anyways… Squirm will be two at the start of next year and is becoming very much a girl. Now I always knew she was a girl, obviously, but her interests and characteristics are becoming a lot more defined now and it has me just a little scared. When I was growing up, and even now to some degree, my sister and I had a definite aversion to those we labelled girlie girls. We loved adventures, getting dirty, being good at sports and being hardcore (don’t know whether we had that word back when I was a kid but you know what I mean.) We ridiculed girls who screamed, who couldn’t catch a ball, who had to wear the best brands and wouldn’t get dirty. We were ruthless in our mocking, just between ourselves of course, and now I am scared.

Squirm got new shoes and needs to point them out to everybody, she loves hair clips and carrying around a bag, she loves her teddy and babies, she likes to put on a dancing dress and dance around the loungerooom, she can’t stand to have dirt or food on her hands or feet. All of these things she has done without any prompting, unless Nanna is secretly training her behind my back to get revenge for all those years when I wouldn’t wear those ‘cute’ outfits, which is a possibility. And so I worry about how I can possibly relate to this little princess, but then I see her following around her brother, playing with cars, lying on her belly lifting up rocks to find earwigs, pretending to be a dinosaur, playing catch and then I can breathe again, it is going to be alright. Girls can have dolls and dance and be dinosaur bug catches too, I hope so anyway.

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toddler by chelle