When I was pregnant, people asked me, “Would you rather have a boy or a girl?” I wasn’t shy. My automatic response was always, “I want a girl.” We found out about the sex as early as possible, partially because I am a planner, and partially because I would need time to adjust if I was told a boy was on the way.
I am by no means a girly girl, so some people didn’t understand. I explained that I have been around girls my whole life (having many younger female cousins for whom I babysat), so I could quite easily raise a tomboy, just not an actual boy.
And now, here I am with a 20-month-old and I’m terrified that she will be a girly girl and I will have no idea what to do with her. While I do like my nail polish and enjoy dressing up from time to time, I am definitely most comfortable in Nikes and a ponytail. I am not a jock by any stretch of the imagination, but athletic activity and competition are a big part of my life. I’m not trying to push Eleanor in any one direction, but adding a dodgeball, a bat and tee, and plastic golf clubs to her stash of toys isn’t hurting anyone. (OK, when she was a newborn, I MAY have dressed her in a baseball onesie, put her inside my baseball glove and took photos, but I really wasn’t trying to influence her future tomboy tendancies….)