One thing that has surprised me about having two daughters is that they are such girls: prone to bouts of giggling, obsessed with fairies, insistent about wearing dresses whenever possible, fond of role-playing where one gets to be the princess and the other is prince charming. I wouldn't call myself a particularly girly girl. I don't wear make-up, the most I do to style my hair is use conditioner and a comb. I've had two manicures in my life, and no pedicures. I'm a jeans and t-shirt mom, unless it's summer, when I'm a shorts and t-shirt type.
Last summer, inspired by all of that sparkling purple and pink energy in my house, I broke down and bought a few skirts. The girls loved it, seeing my feminine side. "You look like a princess!" they announced whenever I threw on one of the skirts. And I liked them, too. They were good for the hot weather. If only the shoes that went with them were more comfortable, or the practical shoes I prefer went with skirts. Plantar fasciitis cares nothing about fashion.
For Easter I got the girls headbands with felt flower petals all around. They're adorable in them, these little flower girls, and have been wearing them since Easter. But I failed to notice that the petals were covered in glitter. So now the little princesses leave a trail of sparkles everywhere they go, and I've spent so much time wiping glitter off their faces, afraid it'll get into their eyes, that I'm wondering what the statute of limitations is on a new gift before it can "disappear" into the box of annoying toys I keep hidden in the closet.
A while back I looked at my husband across the dinner table, dutifully wearing the sparkly headband the girls had offered him (matching the ones they wore), and said, "I'm sorry you'll never have a son." After all, we've both agreed that two kids is our limit (we don't want to be outnumbered). He laughed and said it was fine. "Yeah, but you must get a little tired of showing up at work every day covered in glitter," I said. He looked down at his shirt, brushed off the sparkly dust that had fallen from the headband, and shrugged. "Not really." I guess we've both learned to embrace the princess influence.