#4 - The color pink

I am not a girly girl  Never have been.  Or as long as I can remember at least.  But then five years ago we were blessed with a baby girl.  And from the start her color has been pink.  I tried to stop it.  Her bedding and décor was green and purple.  We were thinking Tinker Bell colors.  I didn't buy anything pink.  But that doesn't mean she wasn't given any pink.  In fact I think my mom tried her best to buy lots of pink.  To make up for me never wanting anything pink.  Unless it was taffy. Or ice cream.  Pink in sugary sweet form is fine.

However, this little girl had her mind made up from the start.  Pink is her color.  How do I know this?  I just folded a load of laundry.  It was all pink.  We also promised her that when we moved she got to pink out the paint for her room.  Can you guess?  Yep. Pink.  And two shades of pink at that.  Here's your proof.

 

Here's also the proof that I did it.   

 

 

So why am I thankful for pink?  I am thankful for a lot of reasons.  Pink means that a little girl is in our lives.  I was told at one point that due to the severity of my PCOS I most likely would not be able to have kids without medical help.  I did.  A miscarriage before Kathryn brought hope there would be a child one day.  And I got this spunky little girl that loves pink and challenges me daily.

 

Pink pushes me out of my comfort zone.  I had no idea what to do with a little girl.  Dresses?  I may have one or two in my closet. Pink? It had better be strawberry flavoring.  And yet, those are two of her favorite things.  And usually it is pink dresses.  With bows.  Or butterflies.  Or both.

 

 

After we painted her room I asked her something to the effect of, "So how do you like it?"  Her response? "It is okay, but it could be more girly."  "More girly?  How???" "It needs butterflies."  My thoughts went straight back to 6th grade.  We had just moved into a new house.  My room had blue wallpaper and it was COVERED in butterflies.  And I hated it.  I was upset that Randy's room got painted first.  Me??  In a room with butterflies??? It was horrible.  And now I have this little girl asking for butterflies.  Nana to the rescue and sent her butterflies to paint.  See. My mother is still trying to make up for all those years. (I love you Mom!)

 

My pink girly girl is also stubborn.  And strong-willed.  And so much like her mother my uncle even called her a mini me.  And he probably knew me the best, out side of my immediate family, when I was that age.  She & I.  We butt heads.  We snuggle.  We fight.  But I know this pink-loving little girl is all mine.  She is my miracle.  And I love her to no end, pink and all.