Girl Toys
A while ago, Robin asked "Do your children play with gender-specific toys?" I wrote a really long comment, which I'll repeat here. I really didn't give a lot of thought to gender specific toys, as baby toys aren't specific. True, I won't dress Doodles in pink, but other than that I don't give much thought about boy/girl in terms of activities, toys, playmates. But lately it seems that other people are making me think about it.
I'm a big into dumpster diving when it comes to toys. So many of the toys are big and plastic and will be around for Doodles great-grandkids. I see no reason for them to end up in landfill. Two of our neighbors on two separate occasions were throwing out perfectly good, perfectly wonderful toys. One was a Little Tikes truck, which I knew Doodles would love, as he absconded with a friend's when he had the opportunity. Then, just a couple of weeks later, a neighbor left a Little Tikes cube slide in the trash. I was out for my morning run, but stopped immediately when I saw it. I do feel a little self-conscious grabbing things out of the trash, so I peeked to see if my neighbor was up. I didn't see anyone, so I grabbed the climber and dragged it to our yard. As I continued the run, I saw someone coming out for the paper, so I ran back to tell them I had taken it. "Oh, there's more! Please take it." One of the toys was a plastic tricycle that Doodles is still way too young for. It's pink and purple and was definitely designed with a girl in mind. However, I keep it in the backyard and Doodles loves climbing on it and having me push him. Not my favorite game, but hey, it keeps him happy.
Then, about a month ago, someone put on an e-mail list that I'm on, an offer of a kitchen set. Whenever we went to the library, Doodles would monopolize the kitchen set there. Granted, his favorite thing to do is open and close the doors, but he is a happy camper (cooker?) at his kitchen. So I grabbed the free one for him. Oh, what a happy Doodles! Then I thought, "Perhaps Doodles would like some food and cookware for his kitchen." So I went onto ebay to look for some for him. First of all, what a rip-off. With shipping and handling, it was way too expensive. But what really irked me is that almost every single auction said something along the lines of "your little girl will love this!" or "perfect for your daughter!" Um, hello! William has a doll and Doodles likes to cook. Get over it.
And then, in my cheapness, I decided to borrow a Halloween costume for Doodles. Spending $30 for something he'd wear just once is ludicrous. So I asked around and someone offered me a bunny outfit. It was adorable. But of course, when I sent the picture to my father, his first comment was, "Doodles looks like a girl!"
So now I tell the story I told in Robin's blog:
When I was four, I was pretty much the only girl in my age group in the neighborhood. I hung with a group of boys who were slightly older than myself. There was one boy, Patrick, my age, and when we played cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians (I know, not P.C., but this was the early '70s), we had to always be the robbers or the Indians. They said it was because we didn't have guns. In retrospect, I understand it was because we were the littlest, but all I knew then was if I had a gun, I could be a cowboy. I really wanted to be a cowboy.
So I started to bug my mom. "I want a gun! I want a gun!" And my mom, being the good '60s pacifist she was, said no. Over and over she said no. I couldn't have a gun. I was so miserable. I was aching for a gun.
One day (or so I'm told; I don't remember this), I went to my mother and said, "I know why I can't have a gun!" My mother, feeling proud that I was about to deliver a speech on the danger of guns, said, "Why?" I replied, "It's because I'm a girl!"
Do I even need to tell the rest? My favorite picture of me is that Hanukkah. I'm wearing pigtails with blue ribbons. I have on a blue party dress and my Mary Janes. And I'm holding in my hands a plastic machine gun that was almost twice the size of me. Oh, it was a beautiful gun. It shot sparks and made a lovely loud noise. I guess the lesson to be learned here is feminism trumps pacificism.
And Doodles? Doodles can be a bunny, ride a pink tricycle, play in his kitchen, and whatever else he darn pleases. And if you don't like it, well, go vote for Bush. Oh, wait. I guess you already did. Um, I was just kidding. Can you take it back?
I'm a big into dumpster diving when it comes to toys. So many of the toys are big and plastic and will be around for Doodles great-grandkids. I see no reason for them to end up in landfill. Two of our neighbors on two separate occasions were throwing out perfectly good, perfectly wonderful toys. One was a Little Tikes truck, which I knew Doodles would love, as he absconded with a friend's when he had the opportunity. Then, just a couple of weeks later, a neighbor left a Little Tikes cube slide in the trash. I was out for my morning run, but stopped immediately when I saw it. I do feel a little self-conscious grabbing things out of the trash, so I peeked to see if my neighbor was up. I didn't see anyone, so I grabbed the climber and dragged it to our yard. As I continued the run, I saw someone coming out for the paper, so I ran back to tell them I had taken it. "Oh, there's more! Please take it." One of the toys was a plastic tricycle that Doodles is still way too young for. It's pink and purple and was definitely designed with a girl in mind. However, I keep it in the backyard and Doodles loves climbing on it and having me push him. Not my favorite game, but hey, it keeps him happy.
Then, about a month ago, someone put on an e-mail list that I'm on, an offer of a kitchen set. Whenever we went to the library, Doodles would monopolize the kitchen set there. Granted, his favorite thing to do is open and close the doors, but he is a happy camper (cooker?) at his kitchen. So I grabbed the free one for him. Oh, what a happy Doodles! Then I thought, "Perhaps Doodles would like some food and cookware for his kitchen." So I went onto ebay to look for some for him. First of all, what a rip-off. With shipping and handling, it was way too expensive. But what really irked me is that almost every single auction said something along the lines of "your little girl will love this!" or "perfect for your daughter!" Um, hello! William has a doll and Doodles likes to cook. Get over it.
And then, in my cheapness, I decided to borrow a Halloween costume for Doodles. Spending $30 for something he'd wear just once is ludicrous. So I asked around and someone offered me a bunny outfit. It was adorable. But of course, when I sent the picture to my father, his first comment was, "Doodles looks like a girl!"
So now I tell the story I told in Robin's blog:
When I was four, I was pretty much the only girl in my age group in the neighborhood. I hung with a group of boys who were slightly older than myself. There was one boy, Patrick, my age, and when we played cops and robbers or cowboys and Indians (I know, not P.C., but this was the early '70s), we had to always be the robbers or the Indians. They said it was because we didn't have guns. In retrospect, I understand it was because we were the littlest, but all I knew then was if I had a gun, I could be a cowboy. I really wanted to be a cowboy.
So I started to bug my mom. "I want a gun! I want a gun!" And my mom, being the good '60s pacifist she was, said no. Over and over she said no. I couldn't have a gun. I was so miserable. I was aching for a gun.
One day (or so I'm told; I don't remember this), I went to my mother and said, "I know why I can't have a gun!" My mother, feeling proud that I was about to deliver a speech on the danger of guns, said, "Why?" I replied, "It's because I'm a girl!"
Do I even need to tell the rest? My favorite picture of me is that Hanukkah. I'm wearing pigtails with blue ribbons. I have on a blue party dress and my Mary Janes. And I'm holding in my hands a plastic machine gun that was almost twice the size of me. Oh, it was a beautiful gun. It shot sparks and made a lovely loud noise. I guess the lesson to be learned here is feminism trumps pacificism.
And Doodles? Doodles can be a bunny, ride a pink tricycle, play in his kitchen, and whatever else he darn pleases. And if you don't like it, well, go vote for Bush. Oh, wait. I guess you already did. Um, I was just kidding. Can you take it back?
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