Pregnant Over 40

So this morning, C and I are having breakfast in bed, and we’re talking about this recent Wall Street Journal article about Disney’s $4 billion “princess franchise” The upshot of the article is that Disney has crafted a series of princess archetypes to resonate with young girls, starting with newborns (diaper changing stations) and extending through toddlerhood (Cinderalla), into grammer school (fairies, Pocahontas), through adolescence (High School Musical, Hannah Montana) and all the way to adulthood (Enchanted) when we start having girls of our own. Lather, rinse, repeat.

This topic has a big old charge for me – as Disney has historically cranked out only two female archetypes – both awful. 1) Weak beautiful damsel needing a prince to rescue her, and 2) wicked villainess who tricks children. AWFUL VAPID destructive role model crap. I HATE THIS!

Anyway, seeing as how C doesn’t want to know the bean’s gender, I know I am going to have to work hard not to tip my hand around this conversation. It’s cutting so close to home! And I succeed at this – in my empassioned, yet intellectualized and neutral tone.

I add that most girls go through a princess phase, not really remembering how long this phase usually lasts, or if it’s really a phase at all. But wanting to acknowledge that it’s pretty likely this bean is gonna find something compelling about the princess thing and it’s best to let it happen if she’s really drawn to it.

Then C makes a remark about Disneyland having make-up and hair stations where these girls – young girls – get their parents to pay $$$ for these princess makeovers. I am reminded of the image with the article of a girl no older than 8 in a ridiculous and even kinda sexy princess outfit. And it just hits me as SO WRONG. And I blurt, “GOD, I hope the bean doesn’t fall for that crap!”

At that point, he just looks at me. I can’t tell if he thinks I’m bluffing or if I’m totally busted. In an effort to keep the secret, my mind races to make up some counter bluff, about how our son won’t have to deal with princess crap – how lucky we are! But I’m just so giddy from blurting it out that I start laughing and crying uncontrollably. “It’s a girl!” I finally confirm, and he hugs me and starts laughing and crying too.

And ultimately, she may like princesses. What the hell. I liked princesses. Presumably now that we’re in the 21st century, there are some out there that are a little more multidimensional.