The Politics of Being a Girl

I'm not talking about the hair, make-up and fashion side of being a girl, I'm talking about all of the other things that generally get an eye roll from the male population. Over analyzing, discussing feelings, and gossip to name a few (all of which I am guilty of, I admit).

Way back in the days of recess I always found myself more interested in playing soccer with the boys as opposed to whatever it was the girls were up to. By fifth grade my girl friends would drag me away from the soccer game to coo over the newest Cabbage Patch Doll. Looking back on my younger days it isn't hard for me to figure out how I landed in a male dominated industry. I enjoy dealing with men. I am in awe of how many men handle conflict. They either call each other a moron or hash it out over a fist or two. In no time, they are back at the bar drinking beer. In no instance have I ever had that quick of a resolve with a female (except for Jane). If it doesn't involve at least two other people and several phone calls, it takes at least six months to "work through" and the bridge will never be completely rebuilt.

My poor husband is the constant sounding board to the various conflicts I have going on in my life, and God bless him for it.

I always thought I wanted to be the mother of boys (and yes I fully understand I had little choice in the matter). I believed that God would see, as I already did that I would deal much better with the Y chromosome. Apparently, we have different opinions on the topic as Mike and I are the proud parents of two girls. The last half of my pregnancy with Sydney gave me a lot of time to ponder all of the politics of being a girl that I wasn't good at. How on earth was I going to deal with or give advice on all the things that made me nuts?

As my oldest has started school I have had to watch her go through painful situations at the hands of other girls. I struggle with how involved I should get...because really, I don't remember my own mother inserting herself in one fight I had growing up (outside of sound advice). She didn't call the other mom and suggest a play date to work things out. I largely had to deal with it on my own. I've chosen the same path with Sydney and will do the same for Camille (although with Camille, I think I'll be getting the phone calls from the parent of the child with hurt feelings). You have to learn the politics yourself to survive the game.

And as to not end my post on such a serious note, this is the conversation I was privy to as I was bringing Sydney and her friend back to our house.

"Did you see at field day when all the boys took off their shirts?" asked Sydney
"I did!" replied her friend
"You could see their boobies" Sydney said through a giggle.
"Sydney, they don't have boobies, they have tits." her friend said in a matter-of-fact tone.

I erupted in laughter.

"What Mrs. Wallick, they do! We'll have boobs when we get bigger, but right now we just have tits too."

I couldn't help it, I was laughing uncontrollably and I think I was ticking the little girl off. I wanted to tell her how funny this story would be in a mere 10 years, but decided instead to turn up The Ting Tings.