I was going to start this entry off with a cute picture of Noah. But apparently my phone and my computer or my phone and my gmail - my phone is not speaking to someone around here. So use your imagination. My son, dressed nicely, Santa hat, cute grin. Good.
Our work party is today. I'm mostly looking forward to it. It's way earlier in the month than we typically have it and the timing of it is all off. But I'm trying to be grateful. I'm recycling a dress I wore to the party a few years ago. But it's still cute, so at least I've got that going for me.
As I was was wrapping some presents last night, the phone rang. We don't answer our house phone on a regular basis. When we do, there aren't real people on the other end. Or if there are real people, they don't understand that we are allowed to say no to their fabulous offers of new shellacked siding and fantastic above ground on the roof pools. So, to avoid the frustration, we simply don't answer the house phone a whole lot. However, last night we did and it was an actual person; a little girl for Madeline. In the span of about six seconds those two nine year olds had planned a sleepover, the logistics, the transportation, and the return home trip. I was a little taken aback. The other little girl's mother and I did speak briefly on the phone. But at that point it as more of a formality - we didn't need to. Had either of those two girls had a driver's license it would have been a done deal.
It's moments like that that make me smile. And silently weep a little bit. My little girl is planing sleep overs and going to sleep overs, and staying at sleep overs. She's going to be the teen with lots of activities. She's going to be the middle schooler who wants to be a part of it all. She's going to be the child who tries hard to please everyone. I'm proud of that. I will nurture and foster that.
Madeline is at her happiest when she's allowed to be a girl. The girliest of them all. I know it's hip right now to foster gender equality and sexless based tastes and marketing. But I think it should also be pretty damn hip to allow your kid to do what she wants to do. If purple, turquoise, green, and hot pink ("in that order, mom. Pink is LAST now.") are her favorite colors, why should I keep buying blue shirts. It's just as important to me foster what makes her comfortable and what brings our her best qualities.
So, if that means that Madeline will totally be rocking a green and pink tutu with her candy cane shirt and leggings today, than so be it. And I hope at her sleep over they braid each others hair, paint each other's nails, and prank call boys.