Post by Jessica R.
When my first daughter was born I went out of my way to buy her things that weren’t pink. She had blue jammies, red shirts, green pants, white hats, yellow booties… and yes, some pink, because it’s hard to avoid. But she really did wear an impressive array of colors.
We fought the pink in other areas too. We bought her toys in all sorts of colors, the brighter the better. And we read books about everything, trucks and dinosaurs as well as puppies and butterflies, looking for bright, colorful images that pulled from every part of the spectrum.
And yet, one day, sometime during her second year of life, we looked around us and realized that despite our best efforts we were submerged in pink.
It was everywhere. People had given it to her in spades in the form of Christmas, Hanukkah and birthday presents. She had pink clothes, pink toys, pink books, and even pink princess gowns.
She did what girls will do. She fell in love with pink and soon it was all she ever wanted to wear.
At that point I gave in and embraced the pink with all my might. I figured that if I did she might get sick of it on her own and one day elect to shun it in favor of the rest of the rainbow. The logic stemmed from the fact that as a kid I had not been allowed to indulge in my love of pink and fell head first into it as a teen and, as my very pink wardrobe attests, never recovered.
This weekend my four-year-old declared that she was “not so happy with pink any more.” And poof. It was all over. She instantly went from a girl who only ever had eyes for pink items to a girl who loved red, blue, yellow, orange and every other color but pink.
You would think that I would rejoice, but it’s actually made things more complicated. How am I supposed to know what to get her when I’m out shopping?
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