My daughter K is mildly obsessed with superheroes. And while I take full responsibility for having planted the initial seed (and watering it daily with encouragement and the occasional new superhero-themed book or shirt), she’s taken the idea and just run with it.
“K, what do you want to wear today?”
“A superhero shirt, superhero underwear and pants that tie…if we have them, please.”
When we first introduced K to superheroes – your typical Batman, Superman-type fodder – she expressed an interest in them, but it didn’t become a daily undercurrent. And in fact, her enthusiasm was dampened for a bit last fall when a classmate told her that his daddy said, “Girls can’t be superheroes.”
Why does this exist?
Most of you know my rather strong feelings about gender stereotypes and expectations. I don’t have a problem with girls being exposed to “girly” things, but I do have a problem because it seems that everything a girl is exposed to is “girly.” Why are there entire aisles awash in pink? Why must everything be Barbie-this or Princess-that? And why do I always have to go to the boys’ section to find red, grey or black gloves or shoes that are neither pink nor have hearts or princesses all over them?
It’s kind of a funny thing to work in the tech industry. By definition, you work with geeks. Lots of them. And you know, you sort of become geeky yourself. We’ll leave alone for a minute the idea that you might have started that way, which may have in fact led you into your current field because of course we know that that’s not the case for me. Honest. But I digress.
My kid loves to pretend. She likes especially to pretend to eat and loves to “cook.”
One day a couple of months ago, K gave me her doll stroller one day and asked me to fold it up. Continue reading
I love creativity. For my part, I don’t have a creative bone in my body, nor am I an entrepreneur. Which may be why I appreciate both qualities so much. As a result, I was pretty excited when I stumbled across the website Kickstarter.
A bold statement, I know. But after fighting with my daughter to take a nap, wherein she screamed bloody murder when I left her, and when I came back kept commanding me to “Lie down!” and “Blanket!” (There’s a gray blanket in her room that we use if we’ve just given up and lie down on the floor with her); I finally came up with a brainstorm.
Okay, so most of you know that I’m really not a big fan of pink. Especially that pale pastel pink you find in baby stores. I think that pink Red Sox caps are an affront to baseball. I didn’t want to find out K’s gender early at least in part because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to climb out of the mountain of pink that would surely follow if people knew ahead of time that we were having a girl.