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July 07, 2006
Friday Shuffle - The Clara Jane's Got Stripper Shoes Editioin
Before I start, can someone please help my friend, Mary? Particularly, she needs assistance regarding Mongolian Buddhist funeral traditions and controlling angry Russians. Her request is in the comments of the previous post. I'm not much help, as the only Mongolian stuff I know regards barbeque and the bowl dance Grover occasionally performs on "Sesame Street".
Now, on with the show...
If you've been reading for any amount of time, you realize that I'm pretty laid-back as parents go. Everything in moderation, I say. I think outright forbidding stuff just makes them big and shiny and appealing. So Clara Jane watches a bit of TV. Yesterday, she had a few french fries with her lunch. She's free to track dirt into the house at will. That's just how we are around here.
There are only two things on my "absolutely, positively no" list: soda and Barbie/princessy crap. Well, beer, cigarettes, prostitutes (male, female, and all-of-the-above) and driving my truck without permission are on the list, too, but I would hope that you had assumed as much.
Now, if you choose to let your toddler have soda, that's your perogative. You know what's best for your kid. Since Clara Jane comes from two rotund parents, I don't think it's wise to introduce her to empty sugar calories or fake sweetners.
If you and/or your daughter (or son) dig Barbie/princessy crap, that's fine, too. Really, I try to keep all cross-marketed toys - the stuff with TV and movie tie-ins - to a bare minimum in general, because I'm inherantly lazy and don't feel like fighting the "I saw this on TV and will die without it!" battles.
My hang-up with Barbie/princessy crap is rooted in feminism, of course. I don't like the image created by these characters, who all look alike and have nearly identical "personalities". A few months ago I saw ads for some princessy crap DVD, marketed at girls not much older than Clara Jane. Every single storyline mentioned in the ad involved the princesses trying to land a man. There will be plenty of time for that once my daughter's age is in the double-digits. For the time being, I'd like to not introduce her to the concept of boy-craziness. Or the importance of being beautiful and demure. Or accessorizing. I want her to be a kid who doesn't have any thoughts about how girls are "supposed" to act. I want her to just, simply, be a kid. Not a girly-girl. Not a tomboy. Just, simply, herself, without lables. There will be plenty of time for that later.
I have a friend whose daughter is into the princessy crap. This friend had similar feelings to mine about it, and has warned me, "Oh, just try keeping it away. It's impossible. One day you're sticking to your principles, and the next, your house looks like Cinderella's castle because of crap other people give your kid. That's how you lose the battle."
In the past month, I've learned that my friend was dead-on correct.
Last weekend, Clara Jane attended a birthday party for my mom's best friend's three-year-old granddaughter. I've known this child's mom since we weren't much older than our kids. She's always been the stereotypical girly-girl - cheerleader, clothes horse, and the epitome of boy-crazy from about fourth grade. So it shouldn't have surprised me one bit when, after the party, my mom confessed that it was a Barbie-themed soiree.
The good news: Clara Jane showed no interest in the Barbie crap, opting instead to spend the party playing on the swings with two little boys while the other girls did girly things.
So, Barbie has crept into our world, despite the death grip I generally have on the door that leads into said world. About a month ago, a princess also managed to wrangle her way in.
Last time my parents visited, they brought a gift from my aunt. You know, my conservative Baptist aunt who believes drinking, smoking, listening to rock & roll, not supporting the president, or being French-Canadian are all grounds for eternal damnation. And yet, she has no qualms about little girls whoring it up. This woman's daughter used to put makeup on her little girls when they were Clara Jane's age because they were "too pale" otherwise. Those girls are now 12 and 15. Guess how they're doing. Go on. Guess. They've got some problems, those girls. The younger one has shown signs of having an eating disorder since she was 8. The older craves attention in a manner I've never seen the likes of before.
Anyway, my aunt purchased a little gift for Clara Jane. Oh boy ... it came from the Disney store! You can just bet I got busy on the thank-you note when I heard that.
Actually, I do try to be gracious with any gifts that are given to Clara Jane, even if it's stuff I don't want her to have. Smile, say thank you, ditch the gift into the Goodwill donation box at first opportunity. But this gift ... this gift tested my graciousness like no other.
My aunt got Clara Jane a pair of clear plastic, glitter-filled high-heeled play shoes emblazened with Cinderella's image.
Ladies and gentlemen, behold! It's Baby's First Stripper Shoes!
When the shoes arrived last month, I put them on top of a bookcase, out of Clara Jane's line of vision. I should have immediately taken them the the donation box in the basement, but remember, I'm lazy. She continued playing dress-up with her daddy's Birkenstocks, happy as ever without her high-heeled plastic princess stripper shoes.
While she was visiting my parents this weekend, B. and I did a little furniture rearranging. The bookcase where the high-heeled plastic princess stripper shoes had been tossed got cleared and moved. B. threw all the stuff from the bookcase into a pair of boxes that are sitting in the hallway until we finish the rearranging. When I was walking out the door to get Clara Jane on Wednesday, I noticed that the high-heeled plastic princess stripper shoes were on top of one of the boxes. I made a mental note to move them before Clara Jane got home and, because I'm lazy, forgot.
You know where this is going, right? With her finely-tuned forbidden item radar, Clara Jane zeroed in on the high-heeled plastic princess stripper shoes about three seconds after she walked in the door, promptly removed her sensible shoes that are good for running, hopping, skipping, and dancing, and put the high-heeled plastic princess stripper shoes on her feet. I then watched, mildly sick to my stomach, as she teetered around the house on those heels that were made for petite little toddler feet like hers. She wobbled and slid on the hardwood floors, worked to steady herself, and aborted her first attempt at running when she fell off the edge of the shoe and landed in a heap on the floor.
She loves these shoes. Love them. And while she's teetering in all her bone-breaking glory around the house, I'm barricading the doors and buying a shotgun. Anyone named Ariel, Barbie, or Jasmine will be shot on sight.
Please, oh please, let there be some Bikini Kill in the shuffle. Kathleen Hanna, we need you now more than ever!
1. Superstar - Sheryl Crow
2. I'll Sleep When I'm Dead - Warren Zevon
3. Tell Me More and Then Some - Nina Simone (who does a lovely job of obliterating the princess crap)
4. Been It - The Cardigans
5. Way Down - Tori Amos (That might work, too.)
6. I Fought the Law - The Clash
7. Here Today - Beach Boys
8. Afraid Not Scared - Ryan Adams
9. Say You Miss Me - Wilco
10. Jeremy - Pearl Jam
Ah, the shuffle didn't fail me. That combination of music should be enough to make any remaining princesses flee for the hills, where they will promptly twist their ankles in their plastic stripper shoes and get eaten by wolverines.
And they all lived happily ever after.
Well, except for the princesses.
Posted by Robin at July 7, 2006 09:29 AM
Comments
Dude, I think Baby's First Stripper Shoes are kinda cute.
Posted by: Julie at July 7, 2006 11:19 AM
I vote we call them Baby's Last Stripper Shoes.
;)
Posted by: Mary at July 7, 2006 11:29 AM
Hey Poppy - save the shoes for Gabe. He would find a way to fit in them and he would look fabulous.
Posted by: Big Daddy B at July 7, 2006 12:37 PM
My flaming baptist father-in-law jumped my shit when my first born daughter came to visit their house dressed in a *gasp* blue sweat suit. She was a few weeks old and I was told that it was a travesty and that dressing my daughter in blue would make her "funny".
A week or so ago I walked by my now thirteen year old daughter as she was talking to a friend on the phone. This friend comes from ultra religious parents and likes to come over to our house where we are a tad more relaxed. My daughter was saying "I met some drag queens at the Gay Pride fest last summer and I totally loved them! They are the greatest!"
I blame the blue sweat suit...LOL!
Posted by: Tina at July 7, 2006 01:24 PM
From a girl who climbed trees WITH her Barbies, I'm wondering...isn't it more fun to play dress up in clothes that are too big for you? My mom gave up her AWESOME silver, square-toed high heels (60's heels-sensible heels) to me when I was about 5. There was also a foofy dress that came my way too. The shoes never fit, and the dress was too big and smelled like mothballs, but it was fun.
Then I played cowboys and indians on bikes with my brother and started racking up scars on my knees.
I love drag queens too.
Posted by: allison at July 7, 2006 03:14 PM
I get bitten in the ass too when I'm lazy. You'd think we'd learn, wouldn't you?
I suppose Clara Jane's struck a balance if she's trying to run in them instead of just sticking to mincing around like a diva.
Posted by: Dixie at July 7, 2006 04:18 PM
I have tried to keep my 3 year old away from anything pink.Up until a few weeks ago it worked, but now it has backfired bigtime. SHe wants to dress ONLY in pink, will only wear her pink panties, not the other coloured ones, and has now asked me if I will paint her bedroom pink. Er, no!
Posted by: nicki at July 8, 2006 03:57 AM
On the other hand, it could totally backfire.
My Grandmother had two boys and no girls, so when I came along it was all girly girl stuff all the time.
The end result? I'm a 26 year old woman who will break out in hives at the very thought of shopping, I had to buy a couple of dresses for two important occasions this past year (wedding and a funeral) because quite frankly I didn't own a single one. My favorite word is "Dude" and I will use it whenever I deem appropriate, including but not limited to church conversation.
Of course I know the good Lord has a sense of humor and I will be blessed with an entire cheerleader squad as off-spring. Ugh.
Posted by: Jennifer K at July 8, 2006 07:46 AM
My little girl is not even 1 1/2 yet and we have princess pajamas, princess dolls and a princess snow globe all received from others.
She recently received yet another themed nightgown to which she pointed and said "Princess!" without being told what it was.
I give up already.
Posted by: stef at July 10, 2006 01:35 PM
