Then there’s the whole gender roles idea. “Mommy, girls don’t climb trees. Only boys climb trees.” Or “Basketball is for boys.” I’m always immediately defensive. “Whoah! That’s not true! Girls can climb trees too! AND play basketball!! Women for the vote! Equal pay! We can do it!” You get the idea.“No mommy. Basketball is a boy game. I want to play girl games.” Umm. Ok.
Honestly though, while I find it interesting, I’m not really too worried about the whole gender roll thing. Soon enough she’ll want to climb a tree and figure out that yes, girls can climb trees too.
What’s really a bit terrifying to me about all of this is, how profoundly Jon, I, and a few others are shaping this child.
At the moment, we are her entire world. Basketball is obviously a boys game, because I am a girl and I do not play basketball. Girls wear earrings and makeup because I wear earrings and makeup. I hear her yelling at the dog the exact same way that I yell at the dog; “Sawyer, quiet! Go to the bedroom! You’re giving me a headache!”
My words, my attitude, my actions, what I do, what I don’t do, and how I do it; it’s all directly and deeply impacting her story. Molding her into the girl, the teenager, and the woman she will one day become.
It’s both an immensely terrifying burden and an amazingly beautiful gift at the same time.
My fear and my joy.
Overwhelming and simple.
A huge responsibility, comprised a million tiny moments.
A chance and a choice every day.
We are writing their story, shaping their character, moment by moment, page by page.
Whatever the case, weather it's because of or in spite of me, I hope with all my heart it turns out to be a good story.