The Nature of Being a Princess

 

If you are like me, then you were a bit of a judgmental jerk before having children. There are countless examples of things that “I would never, ever do” as a parent in which I now engage on a regular basis, some proudly and some a bit sheepishly. With two children forcing me to do all kinds of things I never dreamed I’d do, I’ve had to drop my hobby of judging others. The upside, it has freed up lots of extra time to check Facebook and to worry about my own parenting choices.

One of the acts of parenting I judged most harshly before actually becoming a parent was letting little girls dress like princesses in situations that did not call for that kind of frivolity.

There I’d be at Target, taking my sweet time, shopping for one or two items, stopping to read labels as often as I’d like, and I’d see some mom pushing a cart with her daughter wearing a frilly pink dress, and maybe a tiara to boot. “Lady, do you have any idea what kind of negative stereotypes you are enforcing?!?,” I would think at that woman, about whom I knew absolutely nothing. “And if she can wear that dress shopping, then what do you put her in for holidays?” Although this woman and her offspring only crossed my path for a moment, I was sure she was some kind of thwarted beauty queen, trying to instill unattainable ideals of beauty upon her poor daughter, who would, no doubt, need lots and lots of therapy to deal with the fact that she never did, actually, become the princess her parents wanted her to be.

But now I know better.

Cut to me, three years later at Lowe’s, my child dressed like Anna from Frozen and playing with the sample blinds as I quickly try and order some blackout shades before my ten month old makes poopie in her diaper. The people at Lowe’s, employee and shopper alike, are full of oohs and ahhs toward my adorable two-year old dressed like a princess. Part of me cringes that she is getting praise and attention for her looks. “She can count to twenty in Spanish!” I want to shout at everyone. “She is an awesome big sister too!” Is my parenting choice, to allow her to princess it up in the rugs aisle of Lowe’s, setting her up for a lifetime of chasing that same kind of praise? That is likely the conclusion of the pregnant lady who walks by, undoubtedly making some kind of “I will never, ever do” judgment of her own. That’s ok. Payback’s a, well, you know…

It was not our first outing in the princess dress, and I seriously doubt it will be the last. The Anna dress is worn all the time. Sometimes only for a short “Coronation Day” dance, but some days we go straight from jammies to princess dress to bath and back to jammies. Usually it’s just around the house, but sometimes I take Princess Anna to the grocery store or Lowe’s. When I have to.  It’s not a fight worth fighting. I tell myself, forcing her not to wear a pretty dress might be as bad as forcing her to wear one, and really, I’m just happy she’s agreeing to leave the house without much of a fuss. Our motto most days: What ever gets you out the door.

As I write this, in the back of my mind I hear the voice of a child-care expert, probably with a British accent for some reason (I think my subconscious uses a British accent for all things “proper”), chiding me for giving in to my child. After all, I am the adult, I get to set the rules of what is appropriate and when, it is part of my job to tell her “no.” Ok, British lady, I hear you, but I battle all day long with this kid, dropping “no’s” all over the place; I don’t feel the need to fight over a dress. Her important parts are covered; why not let her feel like she wins every once in a while?

Please note: I was not always so blasé about my daughter being a princess. My husband and I started with a very strict “no princess” rule. Any gifted onesies with reference to royalty were immediately put in the pile of baby clothes to pass along. We were not as strict with pinks and purples, but we were sure to include blues, yellows, and even browns, in her closet. We did our best to keep it neutral so she would not be one of those “girly” girls.

Keeping busy with Big Sister and Little Sister has definitely reduced the time I spend getting clean and pretty, but, even before having kids, I was never the most glamorous of girls. I never owned a Barbie. I was the last girl in school to get my ears pierced. In fact, I went through high school mostly wearing baggy men’s jeans and big white t-shirts. Not the girliest of girls. As I got older, I guess I got a little “prettier,” but jewelry, shoes and handbags still feel like a second language to me. My wedding band and engagement ring are the only sparkly things I wear on a regular basis. And I wear those mostly to keep away the onslaught of suitors that would certainly come running to my door in their absence. Just kidding, it’s so the baby doesn’t find them and eat them.

So, when my daughter, at about fifteen months of age, got into my hair elastics and put them on like a collection of bangle bracelets and flitted her arms about to admire her decorations, I was a little taken aback. This was not copied behavior. She was not acting “like mommy,” so where did it come from? This is Nature, not Nurture. Interesting. My daughter’s infatuation with accessories has grown along with her. Bows, bracelets, and necklaces are now regular parts of our days.

The “girly” continued to grow, a pink sparkle here, a purple bangle there, and when the time came for our family trip to Disneyland, I think I jumped the shark a little early. Not sure how I would ever top it, I made Big Sister an appointment for a princess makeover. For those out of the Disney princess loop, this is where your child undergoes a transformation, with the help of some “fairy godmothers,” into the princess of her dreams. There is eye shadow. There is hair spray. There is glitter. Lots of glitter. So, at least my daughter now realizes how much work goes into becoming a princess. It ain’t easy, kids!

I felt a little uneasy about buying into the whole princess thing and actively encouraging my daughter along a path that, until the Disney trip, I had kind of let her wander toward on her own. But, when Big Sister was done and she and Daddy came to find me (I was standing in line with Little Sister so we could meet Anna and Elsa), the look of pure joy on her face made it totally worth it. Now, don’t get me wrong, Big Sister is not entirely “sugar and spice.” She has her share of “slugs and snails” too. She likes to get dirty, she likes to get loud, she likes to slam into other children while playing, she likes to climb high and jump hard. And she often likes to be wearing a sparkly princess dress while doing it.

Now I shop with a princess on a regular basis.  That poor mama at Target that I misjudged years ago was, in all likelihood, just trying to get to the items she needed, like really needed, before the toddler-timer went off and she had to abandon her cart in the middle of the store. No social commentary implied, no attempt to interpolate personal values upon the child. Just survival. And the child dressed up in pink frills, or the one in full Spiderman regalia for that matter, gets to spend an otherwise boring trip pretending to be someone else, exploring other identities and exercising their imagination. Everybody wins!

As a parent, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the responsibility to help my children navigate through society’s ideas of “boys” and “girls.” Pink or blue? Dolls or trucks? How do I prevent my predispositions from leaking out and influencing my children? Is it ok if they do? Are they supposed to? I am worried my daughters will someday feel beaten down by unobtainable ideals of beauty, that they will be stunted by other people’s ideas of what a girl should be. So, what do I do? Seriously, I’m asking, what do I do to allow my children become who they are meant to be? Shield them from the world so they can find themselves in a vacuum? Or, expose them to all of the choices out there, even the “bad” ones, and let them sort it out? I guess, for now, I will allow them, and even encourage them, to try on as many different outfits as they need to be comfortable in their own skin. Taffeta and crinoline included.