...ladybird cupcakes. We've had another birthday in the house this week. A sniff sniff, teardrop, my baby's four kind of birthday and we are all still coming down from our sugar high. Admittedly, I've just hoofed down yet another red velvet ladybird cake, so let's just say I'm weaning myself gradually. Can't have mum suffering severe substance withdrawal while caring for two young children!
Mr four is my firstborn, and to be honest I was all at sea when I arrived home with a bouncy bundle of baby boy. He was super cute, all dark fuzzy hair and big long eyelashes and his legs haven't stopped going since they started kicking me from the inside out. But, I had vast piles of gorgeous floral fabric and my little ponies to share, not trucks and corduroy! I had a girl a couple of years later and couldn't believe my luck, not only do I get to have a crack at raising a blue one AND a pink one, but I get to neverendingly indulge my fascination in the differences between the two. That nature versus nurture gender thing does my tiny brain in.
I've consciously fostered the feminine and the masculine in both of my pigeon pair. My son revels in having his nails painted, pink being his colour of choice. He wrestles the fairy skirt and princess shoes off his sister and clomps about with all the grace of a hippopotamus. And when the click of my makeup box echoes down the passage all I feel is a swish of swift moving air then he is beside me fossicking for the blush.
His sister on the other hand does a mean impression of a dinosaur, scaring me out of my ugg boots regularly. She is the first one to go careering down the slide to land in the puddle of slop at the bottom, relishing having caked her pink tulle with mud. And when asked to feed herself, the transportation of choice for the spoonful of food is more often than not some kind of roaring V8 race car.
So I think they're pretty even in the gender stakes. They both display traits stereotyped to the opposite sex. It's not a case of girls and boys, just kids.
But then...
Recently, they both started a new class called Little Monkeys Creative Movement (www.little monkeys.net.au it's great, check it out). My daughter has her moment in the spotlight first, doing a dance based class. This morning, in her outfit of choice (a hot pink tutu) she wiggled and jiggled like there was no tomorrow or sat quietly, staring up at her teacher hanging off every word she said. Just like all the other girls in her class.
Then as soon as she'd toddled back to me, big brother unceremoniously stole the limelight. From everyone. I cringingly watched on trying to feel proud of his confidence and amazing physical prowess. Before his class had even formally started he tore around and around...and around the room with his arms out for ultimate aerodynamics, filled with pride at his speed. The rest of the class soon arrived on set (mostly girls) and sat patiently listening and waiting for instruction. My boy sat briefly before being whisked away by his legs for another quick lap. When the teacher finally coaxed him to sit, it was with much bouncing. This pattern continued for the much of the class before his grand finale, and quite a finale it was, too. When handed a gymnasts twirling ribbon and asked to show the class a clever trick with it he broke into vigorous whizzing around while madly whipping the ribbon about. Everyone watched on, jaws agape as he finished with a final somersault flourish. Ta da!
I got a Lord of the Flies demonstration a couple of weeks ago, further cementing in my mind that this stuff is born not made. After a mothers group trip to Melbourne, on the train, our group of mostly boys met with another group of boys in the park for lunch. They immediately made contact with each other and began marking out territory. At one point we all looked up to see both groups standing in the middle of the lawn face to menacing face. The large sticks brandished by each of them disturbing accessories to the whole scenario. We promptly broke this up and got back to our vegemite sangos and juice boxes. Soon after, in a new location we heard raised voices and accusatory tones. We looked across again to find three of our boys standing shoulder to shoulder, chests out, sticking up for one another. That was our cue to pack up and head for the station, but what an insight in to male behaviour? And in three year olds no less, pink nail polish and all!
Sunny yesterday saw me head to Sugar and Spice Children's market in Ballarat and what a lovely morning! My new Chunky Colouring Books went down a treat and people loved my new brooches, too. Markets always make me feel like it's all worthwhile, so thank you.
I'm off to the Buninyong Makers Market in the town hall, this weekend. It's renowned for top quality stuff and I've ordered some more sunshine for the occasion. Hope you can make it because the brooches in the pic will be all ready to rock your cardie with their caravan goodness (just got to wrangle me some me-time to finish them!) See you there Saturday, 10-2!
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