One of my best friends is having a baby shower tomorrow. It’s a bit of an nontraditional shower giving that she’s having her second child, but she wasn’t able to have one for the first so we’re making up for it a few years late.
She had a son the first time around. This time she’s having a girl.
A cute widdle girl.
A few weeks ago she came face to face to my every growing laundry pile (the clean stuff, I keep the dirty stuff hidden.) and she laughed.
“It’s so pink!” She said, with barely veiled horror tinged with amusement in her voice.
“Oh the sweet girl,” I thought, looking at her bulging belly. “Just you wait.”
There is no fighting the tide of pink when you have a baby girl. Even if you try, you can’t win. I know, I tried. My girls wore lots of blue for those first few months. And then they discovered pink and it was all over.
I kid you not, Little L learned to say “Mama” when she was five months old. The next word she said, months later, was “Pink.”
Tonight I headed out to the store to get a shower gift. I was determined to load up on pink, lots and lots of pink. I wanted to overwhelm her with pink. A bit of a tongue-in-cheek gift if you will. Pink booties, pink blanket, pink rattle, pink sippy cup – with princesses for added effect, more pink booties, pink gift bag. Pink, pink, pink. No more dinosaurs and trucks for that mama! She needs to be indoctrinated to the pink world of princesses and tutus!
My cart loaded up with enough pink to make someone nauseous (too bad Pepto is also pink), I went and collected a few things we needed around the house.
Namely new underwear for C and Little. For C because she has outgrown her first batch, and for Little L because I harbor the hope that gorgeous underwear will motivate her to do more than sit on the potty wearing her diaper.
The underwear I picked out?
Princesses, Tinkerbell, and Hello Kitty.