So back in the day, I devoted a post to the concept of genderization, going on and on about how K ended up into trains and trucks and all things boy regardless of her gender. This put to rest my assumptions that M was into boy things because he was a boy. See, they were both into boy things.
While K was still in utero, we did what doting expectant parents often do. We picked up a baby doll, complete with pink stroller, and gave it to M. This was meant to be our tool to practice talking about baby, until said baby arrived. No interest in the doll, of course, but pink stroller came to be the preferred mode of transportation for all animals. I took it as a boy thing, always making something into a car.
Then K discovered the doll, long forgotten in a bin of toys. For all I want to say that genderization is created by parents, or that it doesn’t exist at all, I watched her pick up that doll, cuddle it, kiss it, and carry it around like I’m sure it had always expected. Bay-bee! She knew it right away, knew what to do and how to do it. And today at naptime, I could not pry baby from her fingers, even though she’d never slept with it before.
I sit again baffled, as motherhood often leaves me. Same toys, some boy stuff, some girl stuff, such mixing. And I’m just as clueless as when I started.