The Princess

Something unexpected happened as Natalia and I were heartily trying not to reinforce gender stereotypes as we raised our two lovelies: they somehow both fell lockstep into those stereotypes, meaning we now have a Star Wars addict and a Princess roaming around the house.

I'm not sure who I can blame for this. "Society" seems like the easiest response, since "society" encompasses everyone and, thus, allows me to avoid any uncomfortable conversations with actual individuals where I say, "Hey, just wanted to let you know that my son has been talking a lot about 'killing', and I'm pretty sure he got it from your kid," or "Although I love the fact that you have introduced my daughter to the princess culture--no really, why would you think I'm being sarcastic?--I'm not sure it will be the healthiest thing for her down the road."

In reality, their embrace of Normative Gender Roles is probably a combination of factors: society, friends, us (parents), school, daycare, peers, society, 20 minutes of unmonitored TV every so often, Steve Jobs, Walt Disney, and sports talk radio. I'd be hard pressed to keep all of these influences away from my kids, so perhaps it is inevitable. And, truth be told, I don't want to be one of those parents who tries to control everything that his kids hears in an effort to pretend that the world is different than it is. It is an impossible task unless you move to Montana, or Costa Rica, or an island off of New Zealand, get rid of the smart phones, and become a subsistence farmer. That's not happening soon. (Who's got the money to do all of that?) And no, I don't enjoy hearing Andres talk about death and killing. But I also don't muzzle my distaste for this language when I talk to him about it, and I try to use it as a chance to tell him what is/is not appropriate.

Anyway--so the past couple of months Celia has been obsessed with three words: princess, pretty, and dress. Morning conversations typically go like this:

Me: Celia, let's get dressed for Betty.
Celia: I wanna wear princess dress.
Me: (Carrying her to closet) Ok, which one do you want?
Celia: (Choosing, slowly) Mmmmmm....mmmmmm
Me: Can we please just pick one princess dress?
Celia: Mmmm...ok, this one! It's so pretty!

And then my favorite line, after she gets changed:

Celia: (Twirling around) Daddy look! I'm a princess!

(Sometimes she also adds "I'm so pretty" or "I'm a beautiful princess.")

So this is awesome, right? I'm raising Cinderella.

The irony here is that at this very moment, and for the past month, Natalia has been reading Cinderella Ate My Daughter by Peg Orenstein. (She also went to see her speak in Newton last week.) I bought the book for her as an Xmas gift because (a) it was in a local bookstore that I try to support, but mainly because (b) neither one of us really has any interest in raising Cinderella.

Now again--I'm not one of these parents who wants to dress both kids in matching potato sacks in an effort to rebel against Society's expectations about what my kids should wear. And I don't intentionally buy pink shirts for Andres (though he does like pink) and black shirts for Celia to undermine "traditional gender-based color schemes." I try to walk the narrow path of normalcy between Nutjob and Full-Blown Consumer.

But there is something about the Cinderella complex that really bugs me. And though I think it's fine for Celia to wear dresses, and to enjoy dressing up (just as Andres enjoys dressing down), and to do things that make her feel pretty, I don't want her to walk down this path exclusively. I feel like it leads to learned helplessness as wonderfully embodied by this JC Penney shirt.

So what to do? She talks about princesses a lot now (though, in fairness, she needs to fill a lot of airtime because she talks constantly, about a variety of subjects). Wrapping her favorite blanket around her, she will walk into the kitchen and say "I'm a princess!" Getting ready for bed, she will request to wear a "princess dress" over her regular pajamas. Sometimes she even calls her brother a princess when he has a blanket around him. He doesn't know what to think.

I'm hoping it is a phase and that she eventually moves on to something else. Though who knows--now that she has been sucked in, there are a lot of forces dedicated to keeping her interest alive and well, and to keep her invested in princess-themed products and entertainment. I'm not sure that we (Natalia and I) are powerful enough to push back on all of this, so perhaps the best we can do is to keep the most offensive and undermining things at bay and then encourage her to take pride in things other than just her sizable dress collection. And I think I have to remember that she is only 2.5 at this point and will probably have very different obsessions when she is 3.5, 5, and 13.

And if not, then hopefully by the time she is 13 we will have saved enough money to buy a small house in Costa Rica with no internet access. That's a fail-safe solution, right?