Tonite at dinner, I asked both Pipsqueak (2 years, 3 months) and Stink, (3 years, 9 months) the exact same questions in the exact same order. Here were their responses (they added their own narrative.) I would always start with joker, then turn to the queen.
1. Me: Would you rather play with a big truck or a big dolly?
Stink: A big blue truck! Pip: A baby dolly! A piiiink dollie!
2. Me: Would you rather play in the mud and splash or dance with sparkles in the air. Stink: I'd want to play in the mud. And puddles. And jump biiiiig. Pip: I like to dance. Like Dora.
3. Me: Would you rather wear jeans and run through a field of grass or put on a faux fur dress and cut your nails. (I'm thinking you can guess the responses. And no, neither of my kids had any idea what faux fur was.)
I can't think of the other two questions, but they were in similar form. Stink always answered like your classic boy (adding haunted houses, smells and noises like farts) while Pip would revise his story in her bossy way, chiding him with, "That's not how it goes! It was a priiiiincess house."
Along those lines, the other day, when I blew out my hair, Pip put down her juice box, brushed some strands with her fingers, and exclaimed "Mama, your hair is beautiful." Such a rare compliment from such an independent little diva. Touching and telling all at once.
I don't raise my kids with intentional stereotypes. If anything, Pip can hold her own with a group of boys better than Stink can (just ask Mrs. V..) But I find it fascinating that somewhere, deep in our guts, despite environment, genetics are genetics. Sure, some girls will chose firetrucks over fire red nail polish. And some days Stink will forego running maniacally through the house for creating his own tea party on the Nemo table, but there's no doubt I have one of each sex. It's a fascinating discovery and I can't wait to learn more.
Now if only men could figure out women and vice versa, the world would be in a lot more harmony. They say it starts in the sand box, but The Secret Lives of Bees has a pretty good analogy for how to maintain peace, and going along with my bug theme of my earlier post, it seems fitting.
Pg. 92. "She reminded me that the world was really one big bee yard, and the same rules worked fine in both places: don't be afraid, as no life-loving bee wants to sting you. Still, don't be an idiot; wear long sleeves and long pants. Don't swat. Don't even think about swatting. If you feel angry, whistle. Anger agitates, while whistling melts a bee's temper. Act like you know what you're doing, even if you don't. Above all, send the bees love. Every little bee wants to be loved."
I know I do. And I wish the same for you.
Pony tail results to be posted tomorrow. It's not too late to find how just how freaky and sick I can be.
Now buzz off and get some sleep.