Pea doesn’t own any dolls.
Well, I take that back, she has this one Elsa doll that sings “Let It Go” (much to my dismay) and she sits atop Pea’s toy chest- probably the same place she’s been for months. You know how that goes, they get a toy, they love it, and then they’re over it.
Now if she wanted dolls I would buy her all of the dolls in the world, but she doesn’t ask for any.
She likes to build Legos, play with her brother’s cars, read, draw & write , play Minecraft, ride her scooter, play basketball, chase geckos, and love on her mommy and daddy- among other things.
She’s currently plowing through the Magic Tree House series, is a great artist and storyteller, and God help us all that I gave in and bought her Minecraft. Can you say OBSESSED?
Dolls have never come up.
This past summer I had a conversation with someone that went something like this:
Her: “She doesn’t have ANY dolls? Not one?”
Her: “Oh my goodness! Are you for real? My daughter has 2,345,789.”
Cause what do you say? Hooray for you?
And I’ve had many of these conversations with moms over time.
Fast forward to yesterday- my mom called yesterday looking for ideas for Christmas gifts for the kids (hey, mom!) and I told her that she could probably just get Pea some Hot Wheels.
The question “what is she into?” is very easy to answer right now: “whatever her younger brother has.” I mean, seriously. If CJ gets a Paw Patrol toy for his birthday, she wants to play with it allofthetime, giving him no chances to play with his own toys. The VTech car set he got last Christmas? Hers. His light up Batman thingy? She’s all over it.
So, I don’t know what she’s into- but it ain’t dolls. Mom’s reaction?
“She doesn’t have any dolls? You had dolls when you were growing up…”
I love my mom, bless her heart.
Pea isn’t me. Or maybe she is, cause I think dolls are dumb. (Not hatin’ on dolls, because I think lots of other toys are dumb as well, but dolls don’t do anything.)
And maybe Pea doesn’t even think dolls are dumb. If she was at a playdate with someone who had 8 million dolls do I think she wouldn’t play dolls with that person? She probably would.
Dolls just… aren’t her thing.
And that’s okay- right?
Who makes the rules about what girls should like? What girls should do?
This doesn’t just apply to young girls, but women as well.
I’ve gotten the side eye and the “joking” from grown women who don’t understand why I don’t own shoes… like dressy shoes.
I like sneakers. I’m sorry, let me go back-
I love sneakers. sneakers are my life. I have Nikes, TOMS, and clogs in my closet (don’t hate on my love for a good pair of Sanita or Danskos- I work on my feet). So if we’re talking about heels, my clogs are as high as I go.
I like flats.
I’m also clumsy as shit. I would fall just standing still. My husband jokes about this all of the time with me. If Pea trips going up the stairs he’ll say something to the tune of “I wonder where she gets that from…” Guilty as charged. I’m not really clear how I’m a runner and how or why I haven’t hurt myself yet. (Knocks on wood).
I get absolute anxiety when I think about having to “dress up” and shopping makes me wanna puke. If there was a picture next to low maintenance it would be mine.
I shop like this:
“Ooo, those jeans/that dress/that shirt are/is my size. Can we go?”
My husband makes me try stuff on because he knows that if I get home and it doesn’t fit the way that I want the chances of me finding the time to do a return or exchange are zero.
Now if you took me into the Nike or Under Armour store? I could be up in that piece all. day. long. But even then, I know what size I wear in sports bras or compression pants or running socks or shoes- I don’t need to spend forever in there. It’s just that everything is so pretty… I want to spend forever in there.
Pretty. Girls should feel pretty, right?
Who says it’s the shoes or the dress or the skirt that makes us feel pretty?
I am the first one to compliment another woman if she looks uh-may-zing in an outfit. Skirt, dress, short- whatever. I’ll say it.
So why does the conversation get weird when I say that I don’t own any dresses? I mean except my 1 signature black funeral dress and my go-to black/white maxi dress (thank you, Target) I don’t have any. I don’t actively seek out dresses, not because I hate them (I would wear maxi dresses every single day because they never seem to need to be ironed), I just…
I feel pretty in a nice pair of jeans and the right pair of Nikes with a t-shirt on.
I feel pretty when I’m working out and I’ve had a good run or just got through a good round of strength training. Well, really, I feel strong- but somehow feeling strong makes me feel pretty, so…
I feel pretty when my hair is done.
I won’t paint my fingernails, but I will get me a pedicure because painted toes are e-ver-y-thang.
I must get my eyebrows done. This is not a question or a statement, I cannot pass go or collect $200. The only time that you will see me start to grow a forest on my forehead is in September. In my preparation for my birthday month I wait- for eyebrows and hair, then I go get it done and feel like a Queen.
How about instead of lifting an eyebrow or poking fun at girls or women for not being into the stereotypical stuff that girls and women should like or do, just accept that person for who she is.
I’m not really sure what the deal is.
Pea doesn’t like dolls. I don’t like wearing skirts.
We’re smart, funny, interesting, studious, pensive, curious, well-read, athletic, amazing, wonderful