A post for my daughter

I have started to realize that raising a boy and a girl at the same time poses a challenge that most parents don't get, at least not for a few years. Now, a baby is a baby, and while Maggie and Ben certainly had different personalities from the beginning, we treated them basically the same. They cried when they were hungry, they snuggled when they were sleepy, and we fed and diapered them at the same time all day long.

Now that they are getting a little older, it is starting to become obvious to me that the difference between boys and girls is not a myth, and that it really is nature, not nurture that makes them different. For a couple of examples - Ben is a very active little boy. He has bruises all the time from banging into something. He crawled first, he walked first, he figured out how to use the dog to climb onto the couch first. Maggie on the other hand is more interested in talking than being physical. She expresses herself in words, she is starting to string together sentences (even if we can only understand the first word or two) and she feeds, talks to and pretends to diaper her Monkey. She is already nurturing, and she mimics things we do like cleaning, wiping her face and hands, and she worries about Ben when he is not around.

At some point recently, it occured to me that I'm a little more intimidated by Maggie then by Ben. Not that there isn't great responsibility in raising a son to be a man, but little girls are scary. Girls are mean to each other, caught up in a lot of drama, and put too much pressure on themselves to be like everyone else. People are constantly telling me how pretty Maggie is, how we're going to have to watch out when she is older because she's going to be trouble. I look at my daughter, my beautiful little girl, and think that already she is on track to be a pretty and popular little girl. And that scares the crap out of me.

What in the world am I going to do if she turns out to be popular? One of the in crowd, one of the girls that loves to make other girls feel bad about themselves because they don't fit the standards? She is never going to be tall, and if she ends up with a build like most of the girls in Andy's family, she's going to be tiny in that "I can never find anything in a size 0 kind of way" and I wonder how long it will take before she realizes that she is going to be someone to be envied. A queen bee, a mean girl.

I want her to be smart. I want her to be kind. I want her to be aware of people's feelings, to consider them when she speaks. I want her to be involved with something meaningful, something that she can look back on when she is older and be proud of. I want her to continue to love books like she does now, to read to grow her mind, to entertain herself, and to show herself worlds beyond her own front door. I want her to be confident, but not snobby. I want her to be brave. I want her to develop her own interests, to not be swayed by what it popular.

I have seen kids as early as kindergarten knowing that they can use their looks to get away with things. To know that they are pretty and that it is a commodity, and a reason to make other people feel less worthy of attention. We talk about bullying in school, and worse than the big kid who beats you up for your lunch money is the girl who spreads rumors about you behind your back and makes all your friends turn away from you. I have seen this in action, and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart and makes me realize that I could very well be dealing with this issue sooner or later.

I wonder how long it will take her to realize that I am a dork. That I was not pretty or popular, that I was not part of the in crowd. That I went through an awkward phase that lasted many years, and caused me many nights of feeling bad about myself and my body. That boys weren't interested, that I was intimidated by cheerleaders. When will she look at me and think not just of Mommy who is comfort and love, but Mommy who is overweight and who doesn't dress right. Who is totally uncool, and unworthy to be her mom.

I don't know how to do hair. I have figured out only a couple different things I can do with her hair for right now, but realized that my days of french braiding are coming. She sits still, she lets me tie her hair in pigtails, or reverse ponies, and then will look in the mirror, smile at herself coyly and say "pretty". I don't wear makeup, my hair has been in a ponytail almost every day this summer, and I am still wearing maternity clothes. How is she going to see me when she is older?

I realize that it is up to me to guide her, to teach her, to show her the world. I am her example of how to be a girl, at least until she has peers to look up to. I want to teach her manners, I want to show her compassion, and I don't want her to ever think that she is better because she is beautiful.

But then I think - She doesn't know yet. She doesn't know that she is going to have this power, that she is going to develop from a pretty little girl into a beautiful woman. Right now, she knows that she loves her mommy and daddy, Buh (Ben's current name), her monkey and her family. She likes puppies, duckies and crackers. She smiles when you kiss her belly or her feet, and giggles and squeals if you chase her. She devours her books, lifts the flaps gently and wakes up every morning looking for a book to read. She dances to music, bopping her head and swaying back and forth, and has no self awareness that makes her think she's being goofy. She sings, she gives kisses to the dog, and she likes to clean up in the nursery and clap for herself. She doesn't know. She doesn't know yet what will come. She thinks I am beautiful and special, and I am one of her favorite people in the world.

I hope I can raise her right, and I hope that after the stage where it is mandatory that she hates me, that she realizes just how much I love her, and how much I want to make her not into me, but into a person that she can be proud of. Beautiful inside and out, and the kind of person I have always wanted to be. I am intimidated by this challenge. How do you know the right thing to say, the right thing to do? How do you handle the ins and outs of childhood and adolescence from the Mom side of things? How do you watch your daughter's heart being broken by a friend, or watch her crush a friend on her own?

For now, I'll take what I can get. I'll read her books, I'll give her kisses, I'll show her kindness to other people. Maybe she'll be beautiful and popular. Maybe she won't care about any of that. Maybe I'll get lucky, and she'll turn out to be a dork too. Because that I know how to do.

I love you Margaret Jane. I am proud to be your Mommy, and hope you will be proud to call me Mom.