Lookit that face. Does this look like a little boy to you?
I suppose that because I am her mother, I can absolutely see that Peanut is a little girl. However, when I dress her in gender-neutral colours – green, yellow or grey in particular – people have a hard time ascertaining whether she’s male or female.
I don’t really ascribe to the pink for girls/blue for boys ideal; in fact, pink is not really a colour I like, and I have very little of it (one or two items, max) in my own wardrobe. Peanut happens to look good in it – and while I frequently dress her in whatever pink items she happens to own, I tend to buy clothing in other colours.
It’s hard, though, finding lovely little girls’ clothes that don’t look as though they lost a fight with a bottle of Pepto Bismol. And if the items aren’t pink, they’re ruffled, frilled and ruched to within an inch of their lives. What is the deal with tutus for little girls? And headbands with bows? And sequins? Why?
I put the wee one in a hoodie and jeans the other day, and my mother squawked that I was dressing the child like a thug. I thought she looked positively adorable! She’s usually in pants or a sleeper, anyway, so I wasn’t quite sure what the fuss was about. Continue reading
(*My girlfriends sent me a message on Facebook with that very greeting. Aw.)
Good Lord. Today is 36 weeks. I am officially nine months pregnant. Aside from growing my hair, school, (and a stint living in Montreal), I’ve never done anything this difficult, for this long, in my life. 😀 I wanted to take another selfie to commemorate the occasion, but honestly, I’m feeling like I’ve got a watermelon strapped to my frame, and not at all very photogenic at the moment.
So instead, here’s a picture of a watermelon-as-baby.
I’m horrified, but I can’t. stop. laughing.
Oh, and speaking of watermelon, these:
Come on. SO cute. Much better than that thing I posted above.
I know this was a disappointing post. I’m sorry. I usually dislike when my favourite bloggers post nonsensical shit like this (assuming that I am one of your favourite bloggers). Never mind. I have a few posts in the works, so you’ll hear from me over the next coupla days. I’m feeling prolific; I might as well write while I can. I don’t know if I’ll have any energy at all to do so by next month.
Praying to St. Joseph, patron saint of pregnant ladies.
Even though I’ve made a point to blog fairly regularly about my pregnancy, IRL I’ve been fairly low-key about it, keeping it mostly mum among even my friends and off social media. That’s because I’m wildly superstitious.
In my first trimester, I refused to linger in the childrens’ aisles of clothing stores, never giving more than a passing glance to the adorably shrunken versions of adult items – hoodies, pea coats, cargo pants for boys, or leggings, tunics and blazers for girls. As if just gazing upon these items would trigger a miscarriage or some kind of uterine mishap. At that time, I didn’t even know whether Peanut was a he or a she, so it didn’t make much sense to purchase as much as a onesie in a gender-neutral green, grey or yellow.
I just figured it was bad luck to buy something so early in the pregnancy, when it’s been proved, time and time again, that anything can go wrong in the early days. Better to just wait until I got the all-clear, no?
And even then, there’s no real guarantee that I/we were “safe”… Continue reading