Moments That Didn't Matter Until I Read "Raising My Rainbow"

We have a specific type of sippy cup that we use in our house. It is the only brand that doesn't spill and doesn't have any parts other than a lid and a cup. Stores are always running low and the last time I went to Target they only had the Cinderella cups. None of the Lightning McQueens. None of the Toy Story guys. Just Cinderella. With pink tops. I had two boys at the time. I stared for a moment. Picked them up, put them back, picked them back up again and turned it around in my hands.

Then I said to myself: Who cares? And threw them in my cart. No one seemed to notice. My boys still use them.

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W loves his super heroes. And he has been spoiled by almost everyone, so has the large action figures. The other day I asked him which of the super hero dolls he had. He stared at my blankly... "Mom, they're not dolls."

"Oh, sorry, they're super heroes."

"They're action figures. Girls have dolls, mom."

"It's ok. Boys can play with dolls if they want to, you know."

"Girls play with dolls, mom."

"Plenty of girls like super heroes. That's what's great about being a kid, you can play with whatever you want."

"And you can't when you're old?" he asked.

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W has always been physically timid, doesn't really care about sports, still struggles when it comes to catching, throwing, kicking. I don't care.

B is naturally agile and quick. He was born coordinated and ready to pick up sports. He's fearless and determined. He's drawn to watching older boys play baseball or riding bikes. People always remark that he's "all boy." It's supposed to be a compliment. But, what's the opposite?

This post was inspired by the memoir Raising My Rainbow by Lori Duron as she shares her journey raising a gender creative son. Join From Left to Write on September 5 as we discuss Raising My Rainbow.  As a member, I received a copy of the book for review.