My big girl turned nine this week. My gorgeous, outspoken, dramatic, insistent girl has been around for nine years. I always get a little nostalgic on her birthday, probably because hers was such a difficult pregnancy. I went into pre-term labor at 27 weeks, but after much bed rest, three hospitalizations, and numerous medications to stop contractions, we made it to 36 weeks. It’s something I don’t think much about, except on her birthday. If I had known then that this was just her “I want it my way and I want it right now” personality showing through, it might have made things easier. But, it was a very tough time, and her birthday was the end. The finish line. [Insert sigh of relief.]
But, on a light note, I made the most fantastic pancakes for her birthday breakfast. You can find the recipe HERE. They really are as good as she says. Eleanor loved them, as did the rest of the family.
And for her cake, Eleanor wanted a Thor cake. She told me I should go to Publix and “tell them I’m a boy so you can get an Avengers cake.” UGH! Eleanor has an older brother and a dad who are superhero fans, so it makes sense that she has developed a love for them. She has a book with all the Avengers biographies and has educated herself on every one of them. But she still thinks it’s not alright for a girl to be so interested. For a long time, she didn’t mention it at school because she was afraid the girls would laugh at her. Now she has reached out to a few friends and learned that maybe it’s okay. What is wrong with this picture? Why are we (still) raising little girls who don’t think they can play with certain toys or be certain things when they grow up? I’m pretty sure she’s not getting these ideas at home, but how do I fight against the rest of the world? Eleanor is smart. Really smart. And, she is a little manipulative. Not necessarily in a bad way (although sometimes), but it’s more that she reads people well enough to know what buttons to push to get what she wants. She really could grow up to be anything. Yet she thinks that only boys can have an Avengers cake. So my daughter is nine. I have had her for half the time she will live with us. (This, in itself, is a crazy thought for me.) I only have nine more years to instill in her the confidence that will allow her to take on the stereotypes and change the world. So look out, media, friends and society in general. I am declaring war on you.