Pack her One Piece

My daughter is going to lad & lassie camp tomorrow.
Honestly, I have no clue what it is.
I do know that my momma signed her up for it, though.
So earlier this evening, when I was doing laundry my mom told me Xiaden would need her one piece.

Honestly, I don't know where this one piece came from. Probably in a welcome box of hand-me-downs. I put her in it when I can't find her (very tasteful) tankini.
But something struck a cord in me, and my poor mother got the backlash.

Why does my daughter need to wear a one piece?
So I ask my mom, who simply states that it's the rules.
But why? Do the boys have to wear shirts?
Obviously, she didn't know, because Kamden isn't old enough to go to Lad & Lassie camp, so she paid no attention to the boys' rules.
But I, being the difficult child my mother loves and tolerates, am incensed.
My mom tells me its fine, just send her in the two piece & a shirt.

My six year old girl just had a Jurassic World birthday party two weeks ago. I just bought her a dinosaur backpack. Something I knew would raise eyebrows because it's seen as a "boy" thing. Even Kamden tried to tell me it was a "boy" thing. I don't know who taught Kamden the entire "boy" and "girl" things were recognized, but that irked me at the time too. So I calmly explained to him that he can keep playing with the My Little Ponies & watching Princess Sophia even though everyone else thinks they're "girl" things, just like Xiaden can love velociraptors, even though they're "boy" things.
And it was as simple as that.

The only time I told my son anything was a "girl" thing is when he wants to wear bright red lipstick somewhere in public. I let him wear it at home, because he just likes to leave his kissy prints on everyone's cheeks. Just like Xiaden & Rhyssie. But when we go into a grocery store & I'm rocking my red lips, I will either put chapstick on him, or I will kiss his cheek so he's still sporting the red.

That's the only time.

Because I want all of my children to know that they're equal. They're all able to do and like whatever they want.

By telling me to cover up my daughter's bare midriff, you are telling me to hide the swim suit she loves. You are telling me to teach my daughter that she can't show her belly, that it's secret.
By telling me to do this, you are sexualizing a 6 year old girl's body. By telling me to do this, you are showing her that the boys don't have to wear shirts, but she does. By telling me to do this, you are showing my baby girl that her body is inappropriate.
This is where sexism starts. In Kindergarten, apparently.

Other Examples can be found here, here & on google.
I know I sound crazy.
I know they're just the rules.
but I want to know why, precisely, they are the rules.

Thank You.

I have written a dozen different titles to this blog.

two dozen different first sentences.

To say I am scattered is a gross understatement.

I have had a bad day.

A bad week, to be honest.

A bad year, to be melodramatic, which face it, sometimes I am.

Right now, I am. 

And in this blog, this insignificant thing, I want to thank you.

thank you for sticking with me through this.

thank you for forgiving my random breaks of days that turn into weeks that turn into months of silence from this blog.

thank you for rejoicing with me in my happy times

and thank you for consoling me in my worse.

thank you for giving me encouragement when I know I need it.

and even more when I think I don't.

Thank you reading through my anxiety written posts and simply saying nothing because you don't know what else to say.

Thank you for reading through my random things and finding one thing you like about it.

Thank you for being my silent supporters.

But there are people I need to thank directly.

Thank you Shelly, for being the voice of the logical side of my brain.

Thank you Momma, for not judging me for pouring booze into the left over fruit punch. 

Thank you Steffie, for judging me when I need to be judged.

Thank you Mema, for being my pillar.

Thank you Cody, for still making fun of me when I cry because you know how embarrassed I am for crying in the first place.

Thank you Jenna, for searching for jobs for me when I didn't have time to do it myself.

Thank you Destiny, for buying me that salad last Wednesday,

Thank you Auntie Ran, for being my reading buddy,

Thank you Katie, for being a single mom with me and understanding my plight. 

Thank you Kyle, for being all protective-y even though I hate it, because I know you care even though you'd punch me every single time you saw me... if you could.

Thank you Anderson, for actually caring. (Shut up Shelly.) 

Thank you Tylor for babysitting when I just need to go to the store with out my kids.

Thank you Justin, for being the most accepting person I've ever met.

Thank you Shayne, for giving me my family and the opportunity to become my own person.

Thank you Jonathan, for giving me Xiaden.

Thank you Bi Sheng, for inventing the printing press.

Thats it for now, I think. I know half the people I've thanked won't read this. The other half will read it and think "aw" but they still won't know how much I need(ed) them.

And I do need them. Because I am having a bad day.

On bad days, I remind myself of what is good.

and today, you are all the good.

and I am good.

and we're all alright.

Thank you all for being exactly who you are.

Even if you are a little weird