You've won this round, Bratz
Grace is not a girly-girl. She rarely wears skirts, more rarely wears a dress, can’t stand pony tails or any other form of hair decoration. She has only a few times requested to have her nails painted and doesn’t show any interest in getting into my make-up. We have Barbies and dolls, but they are pushed aside for puzzles and building blocks. She was bored in ballet and is ecstatic that she can now do a round-house kick thanks to her dedication to karate. This all sits well with me. I want to raise girls who are confident, not image conscious and who don’t feel the need to fit into any one mold. For my part, I’ve stopped buying my beloved fashion magazines (and I hide my Star weekly) so they aren’t exposed to those unrealistic beauty expectations.

Imagine my chagrin this week when Grace started coming home with these weird drawings of girls. I asked her about them and she said she was tracing pictures of Bratz, and that she actually kind of likes Bratz now. I feel so let down! At the toy store, Grace and I would laugh and mock the row of Bratz, asking each other who would ever want to buy one! Well, now she’s mixing with the older girls in Grade 1 and I guess they are introducing her to all kinds of nonsense now. I will continue to boycott these dolls and refuse to buy her any licensed apparel with their name/logo on it. I’d like to roundhouse kick the makers of these icky, creepy slutty little dolls. They look like eight year old plastic surgery victims with their plumped up lips, bad hair extensions and clothes from Fredericks of Hollywood. What’s equally annoying about them is that every product from Bratz has a “z” at the end of it: they don’t have pets, they have petz. They don’t have babies, they have babiez.

I hope she gets over this fade quickly. I have to play my cards right, if I show her how much it bugs me, she’ll only want Bratz more.

So, do you remember this post?
Well, to summarize, I hate Bratz. Grace was on board with that, but as of late she has been softening towards them. I’ve made it pretty clear that I won’t buy her anything Bratz related. Yesterday we were going shoe shopping, and we were talking about what kind of shoes to buy. She quietly said Bratz shoes, looking at me sheepishly. I took a deep breath and explained that Mommy wouldn’t be buying her Bratz shoes – then I asked her why she likes Bratz so much. Her answer? “Because Mommy, Chloe looks just like you and I love you so I love her!”
Strangely, that is one of the sweetest things I think she has ever said to me.
Crop-tops and lip injections, here I come!

For Grace....

And so my dear, you turn 8 tomorrow, and your old, cliched mom just can’t believe how quickly time has passed.

Here are just a few things about you that I want to hold forever in my memory:


-Your thoughtfulness. I love love love, when posed a question that requires some thinking, the way you shift your gaze to the side, as if to block out all other stimulation, so you can give the question your full attention.

-Your interaction with Edie. While it hasn’t always been a bed of roses, this past year you have really grown into your role as big sister by reading to Edie, helping her with her “homework” and letting her tag along when you have a friend over. You still bug the crap out of her and tease her relentlessly, but the good and the bad is more balanced now.

-Your obsessive compulsiveness. Okay, I know I shouldn’t love this, but I appreciate how you need everything in order before you go to bed, with nothing on the floor and things tidied up on your desk and dresser.

-Your sense of style. Girlfriend, while your friends have been sucked into the vortex of all things sparkly, Hannah Montana-ey, Camp Rock-ey and Bratz-ey, you still like to cruise around in your velvet leisure suits. Awesome. This isn’t really new this year, but I love that you are true to your style.

-Your MP3 player! I took a chance and loaded it up with songs I feel are important to anyone just starting to listen to music, and am so tickled that you are partial to the Beach Boys, the Ramones and the Clash (I can’t put Social Distortion on there yet because he says fuck too much).

-Your diligence. You treat homework with respect, and for the most part enjoy the challenges you bring home. Except that time with the subtraction and addition patterns. That sucked.

-Your vulnerability. I don’t necessarily like being woken up at three in the morning, but I do love the confused little face that greets me when I go into your room. You don’t know what scares you, or why it scares you, it just does. And I love comforting you (and then waking your father to come lie with you because your bed is a single and mine is a king, so, y’know).

-Your attitude towards health. You are so aware of what is good for you and what isn’t. Your mantra is “healthy before junky”. You love candy, but you also know to balance things out.

-Your front crawl. God, you look so graceful doing it. I always looked like a baby giraffe going through heroin withdrawal when I did the front crawl. Likely still do. You just cut through the water.

-Your communication methods. You were so mad at me once this year that you stormed to your room and slammed your door. After a few minutes, something came flying out from under your door. It was a cartoon, frame by frame, outlining what a bitch I was being. I love that you used art as an outlet. I’m going to save that cartoon forever.

-I love that you still reach for my hand on our walks together. Those are tears of joy and love kiddo, nothing else.


These are a few things that stick out in my mind about you right now. There are a million more, and I wish I could tell you them all, pump you up with accolades for every day that you venture out into the real world. But you know what kid? You’re so awesome, you don’t need to hear it. The way you carry yourself, you unconsciously already know.

Love you to the moon.