Don’t Call her “Princess”

Leave a comment September 24, 2013 drworobec

This is how Dictionary.com defines ‘princess’:

1) A non-reigning female member of a royal family.
2) A female sovereign or monarch; queen.
3) The consort of a prince.
4) In Great Britain, a daughter or granddaughter (if the child of a son) of a king or queen.
5) A woman considered to have the qualities or characteristics of a princess.

Numbers 1-4 do not apply to my daughter. Those points are easy to argue. It’s #5 that has me concerned.

Yep, she’s cute. And yep, she’s only 18 months old. Perhaps I’m making a bigger deal out of this than needs to be made. In fact, if I am being completely honest, I have called her “princess” on occasion myself. However, we were at an indoor playplace one morning last week, and sweet little Casey toddled towards one of the dads playing with his children- the first words out of his mouth were “hi, princess”. He didn’t choose to just say “hi”, “hello”, or even “hi sweetie”, which is what I call most toddlers I encounter. He chose “princess”. If she had been a boy, would he have chosen “prince”? I doubt it. I think he would’ve chosen “buddy”, or “bud”, or “big guy”. “Buddy”, “bud”, and “big guy” all convey images of camaraderie, strength, and confidence.

Meanwhile, Google informs me that the “qualities and characteristics of a princess” include nobility, poise, dignity, listening attentively, controlling her emotions, selflessness, generosity, compassion, patience, and forgiveness. And here’s the kicker: “A princess doesn’t compete with a prince. Just the opposite, she builds him up”. Wow. Not exactly conveying camaraderie, strength, and confidence. Girls are praised for their looks and boys are praised for their character. It starts early, folks. Are we teaching our daughters to be confident, self-assured, independent young women, or are we teaching them to find their prince and build him up? I’m trying to raise my little girl to be a kind person, just as I’m trying to raise my little boy to be a kind person. The stereotypical, gender-role, accepted-female-behaviour-versus-accepted-male-behaviour has got to stop.

The reality is, she will likely be told she’s cute many more times in her life than she’s told that she’s smart. Or that she’s strong. Or that she’s kind. Her cuteness is the tip of the great big iceberg personality that lies beneath.

Like I said initially, perhaps I am reading into this too much. Perhaps I am creating worry where no worry needs to be. But, then again, perhaps it all starts with “princess”.

I love this kid!

The Garbage Man

2 Comments September 17, 2013 drworobec

I am having a love affair with the garbage man.

OK, not really- it’s actually the recycling workers, and no love affair is involved- but I really do appreciate these guys and what they do for us each week. I wrote this letter-to-the-editor two weeks ago, and it ended up in the Burlington Post:

recycling letter
This past Thursday morning, when the recycling truck and its two workers came by, the conversation went something like this:

Him: “Good morning! Did you write that letter to the paper last week?”
Me: “Yes I did. Did you see it?”
Him: “Yes, and I wanted you to know how much we appreciated that. It really made our day”.

This interaction floored me. One, because I didn’t actually expect that the recycling workers themselves would see the letter. I wrote it to express my gratitude in the hopes that Halton Recycling would see that they’re doing a great job, and to remind people of the hard work these guys do on a daily basis. And two, because they were able to figure out that it must’ve been me who wrote the letter makes me realize that they enjoy the weekly interaction with my children as much as we do. We’ve made an impression on them, as they have on us.

By them acknowledging that I’d made their day, made my day!

What goes around comes around, doesn’t it?

*****

For those who cannot read my letter-to-the-editor from the picture above, here is what it says:

“I have been meaning to write for months. I live in the Orchard, and I wanted to share my appreciation for the Halton recycling workers who come through our neighbourhood every Thursday morning.

They are usually at our house around 7:30am, and we are often eating breakfast at that time. As soon as my 4.5 and 1.5 year-old kids hear the truck, they race to the front door.

We then stand on the front step and watch the truck make its way down our street. Without fail, through rain, sleet, and snow, the two workers give us a wave, a smile, and a friendly “Hi buddy” to my children. Every. Single. Time. Depending on the truck they are driving, they will sometimes stop in front of our house and use the lift arm to dump the recycling up into the top of the truck- quite a sight for two impressionable children to see!

I don’t think they know how much this simple act of kindness means to me, and to my kids.”

The Millionaire’s Family

4 Comments May 7, 2013 drworobec

I don’t like this phrase. I especially don’t like when people say this phrase to me. Oh, I know, ‘they’re trying to be nice’, ‘they mean well’, and ‘they didn’t mean it that way’.

But what I hear when someone says this phrase is not the pop-culture definition of having one boy and one girl; what I hear, is that I must’ve been trying to have one child of each gender. Like I would be disappointed if I wasn’t blessed that way, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. Some people even one-up the cliche, and tell me I have a ‘Billionaire’s Family’ because I had a boy first, girl second.

Let me be very clear on this: I am extraordinarily grateful to have two beautiful, healthy, happy children. The fact that they are different genders is completely beside the point. In fact, if I am being truly honest, when I was pregnant with my second child (my daughter), I was thinking about how much ‘easier’ it would be if she was another boy- I already knew a bit about raising a boy, I had all the boy ‘stuff’, and I wouldn’t have to deal with teenage girl drama, which most certainly is coming my way if karma plays a role.

We chose not to find out both of our baby’s genders until they were born. Going against my typical planned, organized, Type-A self, finding out the baby’s gender on delivery day seemed like Mother Nature’s most wonderful surprise. Truth be told though, we didn’t find out because it just didn’t matter to us.

Just as I didn’t have my first baby to have a boy, I didn’t have my second baby to have a girl. I had my first baby to have a baby. And I had my second baby to have another baby.

I am very lucky, very blessed, and very, very, very grateful. But I’m not grateful for a Millionaire’s family, I’m grateful for MY family.