Emasculating dad
So, last weekend was absolutely lovely outside - or so I’m told. It was a bit of a tough one for me, because I was stuck inside with the girls. Actually it was even tougher for my eldest - she had a stomach bug, and on top of that her first pet fish died. Still, it was nothing I couldn’t alleviate by spending all weekend in the basement making… princess crafts.
First up was this pair of “Pretty Princess Headresses” - design courtesy of a book of princess crafts we were given a couple of years ago. Now, I don’t know if real princesses ever wore dunce caps covered in tissue paper and stickers, with streamers taped to the top, but the important thing is that my girls don’t know either. Next time I’m at the Tower inspecting the Crown Jewels, I’ll let you know.
After that came a 3D “Zigzag Castle Card”, which made a nice backdrop for small plastic toys to cavort in front of. Not exactly how it looked in the illustration, but worse things can happen when you give a five-year-old a pair of scissors.
You’ll be pleased to know that since the weekend a moat with alligators has been added. OK, that was me last night after the girls went to bed.
Did my masculinity suffer from so much girlishness? Not really - it has faced worse challenges over the past five years. (Also, Sunday night I hit Home Depot and fixed our toilet - booyah! Man again!)
In fact, I’ve been compiling a list for a friend of mine who just had a baby girl. Unfortunately I only have two items - three would be a bona fide list, but I’m stuck here. Perhaps you can help. It’s called…
Signs you are the father of little girls:
1) You automatically sort your laundry into lights, darks and pinks.
2) You sit down to go pee, because you are just too tired to stand.
What else? Dan, Joe, surely you guys can help here… Tessa and Jayne must have observed a few masculine indignities… help me out?
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UPDATE: And just like that, the thoroughly emasculated Sinsiter Dan heeds the call! Here’s his list, which is bigger and better than mine by far:
I started writing a list in your comments on the ‘father of girls syndrome’, and it got a little longer than I had intended. Being a Letterman fan, I must have a predisposition to lists of ten;
1. Sometimes there is no alternative to accepting the role as the Evil Stepmother.
2. Every third sentence having to do with the bathroom ends with; “But not daddy, he’s different” (I got this a lot in university too)
3. You know who Loonette the Clown is, and your creeping sexual attraction for her has become a matter of some concern.
4. You know who Loonette the Clown is, and apparently that’s normal.
5. Even though they never show up, all the Disney princesses are still invited to Thanksgiving dinner.
6. “That’s what Cinderella would do” becomes an acceptable argument.
7. Dora is okay, but suddenly seems Diego seems shifty.
8. Every day is a new lesson in things you didn’t explain that made someone cry.
9. Your facial hair is added to the list along with quantum theory of stuff that makes no damn sense.
10. The difference between pigtails, ponytails and a topknot is now a subject on which you could write a doctoral dissertation.
Thanks, Dan!
Posted by: Paul Gorbould | 10-04-2007 | 12:10 AM
Posted in: Kids
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Given the title of the post I thought for sure you’d include “Far more than you should need to, you find yourself explaining that it’s not fun to hit Daddy in the crotch”. But perhaps that’s an issue with all children, not just girls.
Some others:
- You’re so used to carrying small pink items of clothing, pink backpacks, purses, etc that you don’t even notice anymore
- When heading to public washrooms you start mentally queueing up responses to “I don’t want to use the boy’s washroom, it’s stinky!” (which, unfortunately, it frequently is)
- You know several techniques for removing sparkly stickers from any given surface
- It’s not a bath tub, it’s Ariel’s ocean (or Barbie Mermadia’s, depending on the day)
- You know how to ballroom dance with a 3′ tall partner
- You’ve actually considered which Disney Princess is most attractive
I’m sure there are others, but I should probably do some work today…
Off the top of my head: The movies you used to watch with bated breath and regard as super-cool are now really scary and could cause you to have endless nightmares, now that you’ve seen them through the eyes of a six-year-old girl. (Think of just about any shoot ‘em up scene.)
Interesting…I am the father of two girls, and when they were very young (they are 12 and 14 now) there was quite a bit of Disney princess stuff but as they got older it slowly fell away. They are still suckers for cute animals (real or stuffed) but…
I think perhaps the difference is that I was married, had two girls, divorced, got custody and then several years later, remarried - not really knowing much about girl stuff, I tried introducing them to stuff that I thought was fun - now, as I mentioned, at 12 and 14 they like Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Star Wars, Heroes and Harry Potter (say what you will about any of these, but it’s a big leap up from Loonette the Clown).
They are both into Music (Keyboards for the older one, guitar and chello for the younger one) and listen to things like Broken Social Scene, Arcade Fire, the New Pornographers and Death Cab for Cutie along with the Clash and Talking Heads.
My advice would be don’t worry too much about gender, their Mom will take care of the female role model stuff, their friends at school will have an influence too - show them what dad likes and let the accumulated experience shape who they are.
You know you’re the mother of a little boy when:
You make sure not talk to him while he’s peeing in the toilet or else he turns his head and body towards you to answer and you end up with a stinky bath mat.
Your son and husband dress exactly the same (despite being 30 years apart) to go to kindergarten and work: khakis, and a blue golf shirt.
A black eye and a blackened thumbnail is no big whoop after a 4 year olds birthday party.
Shoes can only be black with Spiderman on it.
You can manipulate a Transformer and drink a glass of wine at the same time..
You have to have the, “You must be careful with your penis” talk at least once a week.
Anything over a foot high is considered the top rope of a wrestling ring.
I’m supposed to innately know how to play “war” with a four year old.
If it shoots, makes loud noise, has good guys and bad guys, numchuks, is black, has a cape, goes fast, and shoots webs then you have to buy it.
And finally, you know you’re a mom of a little boy when you sigh heavily when in the Baby Gap and staring at the pink baby girls clothes.
Thanks so much to everyone who contributed… I knew this would be fertile ground, and that you’d do better than I did.
Dan, that list is amazing. I know Loonette, but what does it mean if you are attracted to Molly?
Bryan, I’m lucky to report that all the crotch hitting so far has been accidental… they haven’t yet discovered its kryptonite effect. And your comment about sparkly stickers is dead on!
Erich, you are right - I used to be a fan, but now I turn the channel when a commercial for those movies comes on. At least, if there are kids nearby.
Justin, thanks for the good advice. I’m not too hung up on the gender stuff really… right after dressing up in the princess hats, my eldest asked me to make her a Yoda costume.
Jayne, that’s a hell of a list too… I think I’m lucky to have no boys. And I’d gladly trade you some pink clothes for some nunchucks.
Hmmm… I’m a little late on this (something I inherited from my dad) but I’d like to add my two cents.
Except I’m not really sure I understand where you’re coming from.
I thought I was a boy until I was about 14. My favourite game through grade school was racing slugs in the schoolyard. When my parents moved from my childhood home a few years ago they stumbled upon a macabre scene in the far back corner of our yard - a Barbie graveyard. That was me.
Anyhow… I can’t really speak to the “feeling emasculated” syndrome. I don’t really think about gender politics stuff when I’m dealing with my son, Daya.
Actually, I guess I’m lying when I say that. He’s not quite old enough to care yet, but I’ll probably make an effort to give him a doll or dress him in pink or something sometime in the future.
Oh, and I guess we called him “Daya.” Which could also be a girl’s name.
But at least we didn’t call him Sue.
Funny you should mention slug races: my daughter called me from Grandpa’s cell phone on her way to work to make sure I told her sister that there’s a giant slug on the sidewalk outside Liam’s house. They’re into bugs and robots and Star Wars too, and I’m not in the least worried about gender politics with them. It’s more me - it’s just getting in touch with my inner princess that I found interesting.