"Mow Mow"s and Gender

At the moment, Abby LOVES cats. She calls them "mow mow"s (translation: "meow meow"). She goes into hyperventilation mode whenever she sees one, whether it be real or in a cartoon. She absolutely adores them. Not only that, she makes us draw multiple "mow mow"s a day with her crayons. In every color. I'm an expert now. Look, here's an army of "mow mow"s I drew just the other day, at her command:

The "mow mow"s make her happy -- she smiles at them, laughs, and kisses them. It's no wonder that she also loves the classic girly girl cat of all time: Hello Kitty! Nobody taught her to love the Sanrio mascot. In fact, Jaime and I originally swore to ourselves that we would not let our daughter become obsessed with such an expensive commercial product. But after receiving a couple of Hello Kitty gifts from her grandma, she was absolutely smitten with the cute "mow mow." We can't pass the Sanrio store at the mall without Abby doing one of her hyperventilation numbers, dying to kiss the hundreds of "mow mow"s on display.

This brings me to the topic of gender. What is it with girls and Hello Kitty?! Is it a learned phenomenon, modeled by others to little girls from childhood? For example, Abby receives a Hello Kitty purse (you can also substitute in this example any stereotypical "girly" item, such as princess paraphernalia, dolls, and "playing house" items). She explores the item, as any typical toddler would do, and then promptly receives praise for interacting with it ("How cute!" "Let's take a picture of you with it!" "You look so pretty with that!"). She then forms a schema in her mind that these feminine toy items are acceptable, and that she will be rewarded for playing with such items. Moreover, all of her little toddler girl friends also own the same kind of items, perpetuating this schema. Thus begins the social modeling of her gender identity formation.

Or, is Abby's love for feminine toys -- because she does love all the "typical" ones -- simply because she is innately a feminine creature? Jaime and I never intentionally taught her to adore Hello Kitty, dolls, necklaces, tea parties, purses, etc. But she is drawn to them in a way that sometimes seems to go beyond the explanation of social modeling. Is it in her God-given genetic code to be attracted to delicate, pink, girly things?

It's the classic nature versus nurture debate, unfolding in my household. I will certainly admit that Abby learns and imitates my feminine behavior. She sees me swing my purse over my shoulder countless times, so she swings her Hello Kitty purse over her shoulder. She sees me brush my hair and do my makeup; so she tries to comb her hair and put in her own hair clips (don't worry, no makeup yet!). She sees me prepare her meals and feed her; therefore, she wants to spoon-feed her stuffed animals too. Just like Mommy. It's flattering, really. But I believe it is more complicated than simple imitation and social learning. The truth is, sometimes I look at her, and I see femininity oozing out of her -- from her very core. Like she can't help but be, well, girly. It's as if she was meant to be feminine. I'm not arguing that all females are "meant" to be stereotypically feminine. Not all females should be; that would be a boring, predictable world! But my Abigail seems to be -- at least for now:

Total girl: shopping at H&M with a cell phone, purse, and rad pink leggings!

Pretty in Pink!

On the other hand, Abby is also extremely attracted to cars and balls. So perhaps that blows my "Abby is traditionally feminine" statement out the window. But cars and balls can feminine as well, right? We may just need to re-examine what "feminine" actually means... Perhaps it isn't just Hello Kitty, pink, and traditional girly stuff. I'd like to think that femininity also encompasses strength, compassion, courage, and strong will. And I'd like to think that besides hair, makeup, and purses, I can "model" these qualities as well to my daughter. In fact, it's a definite goal of mine. And in the end, Abby herself will define what it means to be feminine -- what it means to be a woman in this world, and what kind of woman God has created her to be. Perhaps femininity is different for every little girl, and for every grown-up woman. What do you think?

Tears, Tantrums, and Tornadoes

My 16 month-old beautiful baby girl has become a full-fledged toddler. I'm talking tears, tantrums, and tornadoes in the Clevenger household! If we don't let her have something (e.g. our cell phones, the camera, scissors, poisonous berries), she'll stomp her feet and cry. If we don't let her do something (e.g. stand and jump on the sofa, type on our expensive Mac keyboard, climb in the dryer, chew on crayons), she'll flail her small body on the floor (in true dramatic fashion) and weep. Her face crumbles, eyes closed and mouth opened wide in a turned-down frown, and there is a few-second pause of silence before -- wait for it -- SCREEEEAM!!! We hold her, rub her back, tell her it's okay to be angry (hey, I'm a psychologist -- we gotta name and validate her feelings), hold firm to our rules, and wait for the storm to pass. The poor girl, like all toddlers, doesn't know how to express her anger appropriately. Do most adults? Thus comes the hitting. I have no idea what to do about that -- especially when it's directed at us. So far, we just catch her arm in its mid-air striking pose, and tell her, "It's okay for Abby to be mad, but not okay to hit. Gentle touching only..." I want to give her some kind of alternate, safe way of expressing her anger. But she's 16 months. Telling her to take deep breaths and count to 10 isn't exactly realistic at this point...   Any ideas out there from parents?

Don't get me wrong; witnessing Abby's strong-willed, spirited personality bloom has been one of the most amazing things about being her mother. I'd rather have a strong-willed child than a weak one! But it has also been one of the most challenging. Seeing as I'm not the most patient person in the world, this tantrum toddler phase is truly a test. In fact, there are times when I want to throw a tantrum, dang-it!!! Some days, her frustration tolerance is particularly low -- and so is mine. I think, "Wouldn't it be nice if I can stop being a "model" for my child and stomp my feet too? I would like to throw myself to the ground and scream for not getting my way!" Think about it. Don't you fantasize about throwing tantrums yourself? It seems wonderfully cathartic. But alas, Abby is allowed to be like this because it's developmentally normal and appropriate. But for a 30 year-old woman? Nope. It would seem immature, selfish, and just plain crazy. But I can't help thinking how good it would feel -- just to let my emotions be open and raw, in its purest "in-the-moment" form, just like a toddler...

And then I slap myself back into reality.
Deep breaths, Jeanne. Count to 10. Deep, deep breaths...

The Bomb

The last 16 months – no, make that 25 months (which includes pregnancy) – has been a whirlwind of change. As a psychologist, I know that a new marriage is supposed to be higher on the “stress scale” (50/100) than pregnancy and having a new child (40/100). But for Jaime and I, our ratings would be entirely different. Our transition into marriage was natural and easy, probably because we had dated for so long before tying the knot. Five and half years ago, I would have rated our new marriage at about a 25 or so on the stress scale. It certainly shook up our lives, but we settled pretty quickly. See? Don’t we look happy?

Having a child, however, has been a different story. Literally, a BOMB went off in our nice, predictable Clevenger household. I would give it at least a 90. At least. I mean, just look at the explosive impact on the the first day it came into being:

The bomb, whom we shall call Abigail Mei Clevenger, has been the most life-altering, challenging, uncontrollable force imaginable. Nothing (and I mean not any amount of books, talks with friends, or even Google!) could have prepared us for the sleep deprivation, heart-wrenching unstoppable crying, and general anxiety of not knowing what the heck we were doing. See, Jaime and I are both the oldest children in our families. Over-achievers. Leaders. Perfectionists. Always in control. When our Level 90 bomb went off, our solid self-concepts turned upside down and shattered to pieces. We certainly were not in control, could never be perfect, and couldn’t study enough to get an “A” in parenting. Any parent will testify to that. And while this may seem logical enough to you, it was especially difficult for me. Like I said, my former identity was shattered to pieces. Like Humpty Dumpty, how was I supposed to pick them up and put myself together again – all while raising a baby?!

But God knew what He was doing by breaking us down.

See, the explosion ultimately gave us the most BEAUTIFUL, AMAZING, SPIRITED, LIFE-GIVING creation – far beyond what we could have imagined when we dreamed of her. Abby is fun, loud, strong-willed, and curious. She loves animals (especially kitty cats and Curious George), and her laugh is infectious. 

How could we not love this little girl with all our hearts? It is an absolute HONOR for Jaime and I to be her parents, and we are humbled every day by how much the Lord teaches us through her. 

And my shattered pieces? Well, they’ve been picked up and I’ve gradually been putting them together in the last 16 months. But this time, the image they’ll make will be different than my former self. It will be new. Because I have been transformed by motherhood. And I am so thankful. 

First timer!

Hi everyone! The Clevenger Family has finally joined the blogging world, after much pressure -- and design help -- from my sisters-in-law (thanks Rachel and Kelly!). I'll try to update you as much as possible about our family, including "in demand" photos and videos of our little Abby! I'll probably also post some random thoughts about life, so bear with me as I philosophize to the public =) I need to finish the details of this design now, so I'll be back soon with a more "formal" post. Take care all!