Baby hair bands and the female challenge.

Someone brought my attention to this today:


http://www.babybangshairband.com/

And it brought up a lot of thoughts on what's ahead for me. I'm having a girl. I wanted a girl. Everyone told me that boys are easier. But I don't want easy.

Of course girls are harder. You did that to us, world. You tell us things like "have a perfect body," and "fulfill your biological destiny and have children," and "don't get fat," and "don't be selfish and care about getting fat when you're pregnant," and "don't forget to be the perfect mother," and "even if you're a baby, you better be rocking some awesome hair," and then you force women to tell their pregnant counterparts in hushed tones that boys are just the easier way to go.

You made it this way.

I've always been a girls' girl. I connect with the female spirit infinitely better than I ever have with those gross and dirty boys. I've never understood the boys' girls--the ones who walk the tightrope perfectly between tomboy and flirt, who complain about how catty the members of their own sex are, who claim the only women they've ever known have been nothing but manipulative man stealers. I grew up thinking boys were snickering, name-calling, self-esteem ruining meanies. Girls were my allies.

Trust me, boys' girls. That's just not it. I've met those girls, and I've hated them, too. I know I'm lucky that I've had a close knit group of girl friends that are smart and intelligent and rarely catty and always compassionate. I guess I'm lucky that I have a mom and a sister whose careers and minds and collective ballsiness put the entire male population to shame. But I can say without the tiniest bit of hesitiation that I just plain like girls better. Sorry, boys.

-----

I convinced myself I was having a boy. An hour after I watched the positive sign form on the pregnancy test, I saw him: a little mini Jason. Wild, blonde, sweet but never so much so that he lost his boyishness. Completely foreign.

If having a girl is more of a challenge, then bring it on. At least I can give her some ammunition, some armor, to get her through what's ahead--baby hair bands are just the beginning.