{ Floor Pillow | Tie-Dyed Leggings }
My mom once told me that pretty much the second she found out she was having a girl she effectively stopped shopping for herself, because baby girl clothing is just so much fun. And it’s true. Little boy stuff isn’t, like, not-fun; it’s just not the explosion of adorableness that happens when you wander over to the little girl side of Baby Gap.
As an example: lately my son wants to wear “soft pants” only, and woe to the person who tries to put denim on his body. Shirts with buttons? I don’t think so. My daughter, however, wanders through store aisles going “OOOH NEW SHOES!” “OOH PEENK!” (“pink,” for those of you who don’t speak toddler) and lunging for things like headbands with sparkly cat ears and tiny rainbow bracelets. At home, she wants to pretend to put on blush, and loves brushing my hair. She wants to own All The Baby Dolls; specifically, she wants to hold them and rock them and give them little kisses. She would like to wear all peenk, all the time, please. (This is not permitted because I can only handle so much, but I have relented when it comes to pink shoes, because when shoes are pink they go on her feet faster and everyone benefits.)
I would like to say for the record that I had nothing to do with the extreme girliness that’s happening over here; I have literally dressed the child in her brother’s Superman-adorned hand-me-downs from the day she was born. I gave her Indy’s old dinosaurs and cars to play with. I painted her room green, snipped bows and chiffon flowers off of onesies, and have been reading her The Potty Book For Boys (which I admit is probably a little confusing and not entirely ideal, but it’s the one we have). And yet somehow she emerged from this whole situation a walking, talking X chromosome.
It’s so weird. (It’s also pretty stinking cute.)
My picks for your own little spring chicken:
And some for the boys, whose stuff may not be adorned with, like, bedazzled ducks and such, but hey, still cute:
