Four hours of baby shower this afternoon.

If I hear "Awww...so cuuute!" or "Precious" one more time, I think I'll puke. I have had a surfeit of estrogen-fueled fun for quite a long time.

I feel really sorry for this baby. Talk about locked into gender roles. He got stuff decorated with auto race cars, fire engines, sports, sports, sports. All for the manly little man, as he was referred to. And the poor kid isn't even born yet.

His father is the supervisor of loading docks for a major retail chain. In addition, he races cars semi-professionally on a regular basis. His mother teaches (taught) kindergarten. Her own extracurricular activity in school was cheerleading.

What on earth is this child going to face if he wants to become a poet, a chef, an opera singer? What if he falls in love with literature or the ballet? Not a snowball's chance in a hot place for him. He will be molded into a man's man. His intra-uterine photos were passed around, with many admiring comments on the size of his genitals.

Sigh.

I gave him as gender-neutral a gift as I could find--an infant's sealed aquarium. There were some raised eyebrows as though that would not be appropriate for a boy, but who knows? Maybe he'll become an oceanographer and director of Wood's Hole Oceanarium.

In my view, the sky's the limit for a child. The possibilities are endless. Why hold him to pre-arranged goals of sports, racing cars and fire engines? There's so much more to life than old-fashioned gender-defined livelihoods/avocations. If he genuinely wants to become a mechanic or firefighter, great; but if he wants to dance in the ballet or work for world peace, he should be given the opportunity to do so.