It's Not Tacky If You Wear It Well
Jun. 16th, 2013 11:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pixietasticMiddleSpawn
There she stands hands on hips, a little ballerina in her neon pink tutu. That's not all she's wearing, oh no, the devil horns headband from Halloween have crept onto her blue and blond streaked hair, bouncing and giddy she thrusts a yellow rubber ducky at my camera covered hands, "rawrrrr" she growls as it tumbls in a blur to the floor and I snap the picture, her legs and arms gangly and wild as she sits on the hardwood floors.
Image is of the above described scene, off to the right sits a confused looking baby making a cameo appearance holding a rubber duck.
She's 6, now, but not much has changed. Looking through folder after folder of digital photographs spanning from her birth until now, I see all the ways she's pushed the limits, all the times I've wondered how many calls from the school, fights with the grandmother, or miss-guessed gendered biased questions we'll get from strangers. Her at a year wearing a cat ears headband holding a copy of Ishmale, her pixie-like hair and soft pink onesie a tame version of my wild child.
Image is of the above described one year old baby, grabbing at her leopard print cat ears headband while sitting on a bed with cream colored sheets with a leaf pattern across them.
Am I doing her any favors by letting her express herself?
From the first day I took her out into the world I've been asked how old my son is, most memorably while she was stuck in a pink floral dress baby-drooling on a stuffed bear, and while it didn't ever phase me while she was younger, I've wondered as she's experimented with various styles and phases if she feels some pressure to be "pretty" like her sister.
She's always been a tom boy, she loves to be active, and yet she loves to wear dresses and tutus and skirts. She hates pink, no she doesn't, yes she does, no she doesn't.
Pants, though, pants are the real point of contention. We live in a barren wasteland of winter 6 months of the year, where -40 is a month, not a novelty, and snowpants, and jeans and long underwear are required in order to walk home from school.
One infamous day last winter we had a very common early morning fight, "you can't wear that" I'd said, sending her back into her bedroom to change her clothes, it wasn't legging weather it was pants and snowpants weather, and so when she emerged from the pile of clothes under her bed in her snowpants and hoodie looking for her jacket I'd helped her find it and the rest of her winter gear and sent her off to school.
Shortly after the school day had begun the school called...
Secretary: Hi it's Secretary calling from KidSchool, I'm calling in regards to MiddleSpawn's outfit...
Me: Oh...?
Secretary: Yes, she's not... dressed appropriately for school... You see, she's... Well, she's not wearing pants.
Me: Again?! *blush* er I mean, oh my goodness....
Secretary: Yes, well she's wearing a pair of tights, you know like thick pantyhose... they're pink and purple argyle, but no skirt or shorts or tunic just a t-shirt.... and it's just not what we'd consider appropriate for the school day...
Me: *sigh* I'll be right there with some jeans for her...
And then, we trekked to the school to bring the kid some pants, because pants are not an option, and then my mumbled explanation of the "again" to the secretary... The year before, in kindergarten, I'd gone to pick her up to find her in tights and a black and neon pink bathing suit bottom.... Super-man style, with the underwear on top of the tights look going on. The kindergarten teacher had thought she was quite "spirited" and well... I really couldn't argue with that.
Last summer she came home from a sleepover demanding a neon blue Mohawk, and after much deliberating I'd acquiesced to the Mohawk and she agreed she didn't' need to dye it right away. All summer she gelled and spiked and paired her punk rock hair with a pink plaid skirt and a butterfly tank top, missmatched tube socks and an impish grin.
Most of the time, she and SpawnTheElder couldn't be in starker contrast, and yet, they are the best of friends.
Image is of two children sitting on a city bus, sharing a set of iPod headphones strung between them, the on the left is in profile with unruly gelled Mohawk, a black t-shirt that hangs across her collar bones, the child to the right has on a purple tank top, jeans and a pony tail
It's since grown out, the hair I mean, and been streaked pink and blue, if her bangs get long enough to hang in her eyes she'll try and cut them herself and then we have to fight about the safety of her using real scisors.
The night before the school spirit week "dress like a rock star day", she and her sister we debating who to dress up as, SpawnTheElder wanted so desperately to be Taylor Swift, and had an all morning meltdown about not being blonde enough. Middlespawn slept through the meltdown and wandered half asleep into the bathroom calling "mom, I need some gel, I'm going as Justin Bieber", and she did.
Everyday is exciting to see what costume she'll put on, I document as many of them as I can with my DSLR, my iPhone, whatever is in reach. The sequins purple hat with the ten sizes too big Justin Beiber t-shirt, jazz-hands and her ever present smile.
Image is of the above described, a television and scattered toys and shoes clutter up the background
Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing her any favours by letting her express herself. If I'm a bad mother for not minding when she mixes up her male and female pronouns sometimes. I know, that if she's corrected she'll shout "it's not like it even matters, boys and girls are pretty much the same!" and all told, that's not an attitude I'm about to discourage, she can play with those roles, be fabulous in any way she wants.
This is my entry for week 5 of LJ Idol Exhibit B; topic of choice (one of 4) this week was "It's Not Tacky If You Wear It Well", comments, concrit, etc are welcome
There she stands hands on hips, a little ballerina in her neon pink tutu. That's not all she's wearing, oh no, the devil horns headband from Halloween have crept onto her blue and blond streaked hair, bouncing and giddy she thrusts a yellow rubber ducky at my camera covered hands, "rawrrrr" she growls as it tumbls in a blur to the floor and I snap the picture, her legs and arms gangly and wild as she sits on the hardwood floors.
Image is of the above described scene, off to the right sits a confused looking baby making a cameo appearance holding a rubber duck.
She's 6, now, but not much has changed. Looking through folder after folder of digital photographs spanning from her birth until now, I see all the ways she's pushed the limits, all the times I've wondered how many calls from the school, fights with the grandmother, or miss-guessed gendered biased questions we'll get from strangers. Her at a year wearing a cat ears headband holding a copy of Ishmale, her pixie-like hair and soft pink onesie a tame version of my wild child.
Image is of the above described one year old baby, grabbing at her leopard print cat ears headband while sitting on a bed with cream colored sheets with a leaf pattern across them.
Am I doing her any favors by letting her express herself?
From the first day I took her out into the world I've been asked how old my son is, most memorably while she was stuck in a pink floral dress baby-drooling on a stuffed bear, and while it didn't ever phase me while she was younger, I've wondered as she's experimented with various styles and phases if she feels some pressure to be "pretty" like her sister.
She's always been a tom boy, she loves to be active, and yet she loves to wear dresses and tutus and skirts. She hates pink, no she doesn't, yes she does, no she doesn't.
Pants, though, pants are the real point of contention. We live in a barren wasteland of winter 6 months of the year, where -40 is a month, not a novelty, and snowpants, and jeans and long underwear are required in order to walk home from school.
One infamous day last winter we had a very common early morning fight, "you can't wear that" I'd said, sending her back into her bedroom to change her clothes, it wasn't legging weather it was pants and snowpants weather, and so when she emerged from the pile of clothes under her bed in her snowpants and hoodie looking for her jacket I'd helped her find it and the rest of her winter gear and sent her off to school.
Shortly after the school day had begun the school called...
Secretary: Hi it's Secretary calling from KidSchool, I'm calling in regards to MiddleSpawn's outfit...
Me: Oh...?
Secretary: Yes, she's not... dressed appropriately for school... You see, she's... Well, she's not wearing pants.
Me: Again?! *blush* er I mean, oh my goodness....
Secretary: Yes, well she's wearing a pair of tights, you know like thick pantyhose... they're pink and purple argyle, but no skirt or shorts or tunic just a t-shirt.... and it's just not what we'd consider appropriate for the school day...
Me: *sigh* I'll be right there with some jeans for her...
And then, we trekked to the school to bring the kid some pants, because pants are not an option, and then my mumbled explanation of the "again" to the secretary... The year before, in kindergarten, I'd gone to pick her up to find her in tights and a black and neon pink bathing suit bottom.... Super-man style, with the underwear on top of the tights look going on. The kindergarten teacher had thought she was quite "spirited" and well... I really couldn't argue with that.
Last summer she came home from a sleepover demanding a neon blue Mohawk, and after much deliberating I'd acquiesced to the Mohawk and she agreed she didn't' need to dye it right away. All summer she gelled and spiked and paired her punk rock hair with a pink plaid skirt and a butterfly tank top, missmatched tube socks and an impish grin.
Most of the time, she and SpawnTheElder couldn't be in starker contrast, and yet, they are the best of friends.
Image is of two children sitting on a city bus, sharing a set of iPod headphones strung between them, the on the left is in profile with unruly gelled Mohawk, a black t-shirt that hangs across her collar bones, the child to the right has on a purple tank top, jeans and a pony tail
It's since grown out, the hair I mean, and been streaked pink and blue, if her bangs get long enough to hang in her eyes she'll try and cut them herself and then we have to fight about the safety of her using real scisors.
The night before the school spirit week "dress like a rock star day", she and her sister we debating who to dress up as, SpawnTheElder wanted so desperately to be Taylor Swift, and had an all morning meltdown about not being blonde enough. Middlespawn slept through the meltdown and wandered half asleep into the bathroom calling "mom, I need some gel, I'm going as Justin Bieber", and she did.
Everyday is exciting to see what costume she'll put on, I document as many of them as I can with my DSLR, my iPhone, whatever is in reach. The sequins purple hat with the ten sizes too big Justin Beiber t-shirt, jazz-hands and her ever present smile.
Image is of the above described, a television and scattered toys and shoes clutter up the background
Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing her any favours by letting her express herself. If I'm a bad mother for not minding when she mixes up her male and female pronouns sometimes. I know, that if she's corrected she'll shout "it's not like it even matters, boys and girls are pretty much the same!" and all told, that's not an attitude I'm about to discourage, she can play with those roles, be fabulous in any way she wants.
This is my entry for week 5 of LJ Idol Exhibit B; topic of choice (one of 4) this week was "It's Not Tacky If You Wear It Well", comments, concrit, etc are welcome
