I have written before about the struggles of us well-intentioned progressive parents, who want to let our kids choose their own paths, as long as these paths are the ones we had envisioned when we first thought about having children. It's a conflict that makes me cringe when I see my daughter playing with a Barbie, even though I think the way my boy plays with the Barbie is funny. It's insisting my girl kicks the ball instead of handing it to me. It's avoiding pink, even if it's the only things that fits. It's dreading the day my boy pretends his hand is a gun, even though I had played Cowboys and Indians when I was his age.On a guest post at Scary Mommy, titled "The Sometimes-Princess," I tried to come to terms with pink, and give myself one less battle to fight. From fast food and violent TV, to the inevitable toy guns, we constantly find ourselves at the center of a battleground between our previously-held high ideals and the reality of parenting, and as long as I'm determined to pick battles, I feel like the evil PINK should be off my enemies list.
It's just a color. And honestly, it's a nice color. And dammit, she looks good in pink!
Maybe I should just stop taking my role so seriously? Maybe I should spend less time and effort molding these kids, and instead, spend my time enjoying my short time with them?
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