Skip to main content

Post-feminism? I don't think so

At breakfast this morning, Firstborn, taking a break from smearing porridge in her hair, announces; "Mummy, I sit next to Freddy at school. He's my best friend."
"That's nice, darling," I say, slightly distracted by Alpha Male bitching about my credit card bill (doesn't he realise that the purchase of new shoes is an essential part of my psychological well being???)
"Freddy likes playing ships," she continues.
"That's lovely," I say. "Do you play ships too?"
Firstborn shakes her head, "No. I can't play ships. I'm a girl."
I'm astounded, "What?"
"I'm a girl," Firstborn explains patiently, rolling her eyes at my stupidity. "Girls don't play with ships. Girls play with dolls and pink things."

Oh. My. God.

So much for feminism.

Comments

Suburban Turmoil said…
I am finding, even among 1-year-olds, that the girls are very different from the boys. The boys are crashing around climbing and body slamming themselves on the ground and throwing things- The girls are much more interested in playing with anything with a face on it. I think to a large degree, we're wired this way...
12:42 am
utenzi said…
Kids are far too willing to slip comfortably into gender roles. Fortunately there are exceptions but by and large kids find it comforting. Adults too, often enough.
6:15 am
Kate B. said…
It's scary isn't it? I always thought that it was more a nurture thing, but I was wrong, wrong, wrong... not that I mind too much, I quite enjoy all the pink princess stuff, but still...
12:40 am
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Grim Reaper

Firstborn is obsessed with death. It started with the odd comment, such as; "Mummy, what happens when you die?" OK, I thought, I was expecting this at some point, what a cute little curious brain she has. So I trotted out all the cosy Heaven stuff and left out all the things that could worry her, such as worms and bones and holes in the ground. This went down pretty well, although somehow Firstborn made the jump from my view of Heaven (filled with love, joy, always warm, never rains, has a huge discount designer shoe outlet and I never have to pay my Visa bill) to her own view of Heaven; a wonderous place where small girls don't have to eat their vegetables before they're allowed pudding, and where Barbie dolls grow on trees. Anyway, I digress. Last week Firstborn started shouting "Kill! Kill!" in a bloodthirsty tone while bashing her hithero-beloved teddy against the wall. This was topped by her purposely flushing her favourite My Little Pony down the loo. ...
11 comments
gimme more...

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...
13 comments
gimme more...