Every year since F turned three we have taken her to Disneyland for her birthday. When she turned four, the highlight of our visit was the Princess Breakfast at Ariel’s Grotto. It was so dang sweet, I could hardly stand it; F was in awe the entire time, wearing a princess dress and bouncing with joy as she met and got autographs from each subsequent princess. Last year we splurged on a stay at Disney’s Grand Californian hotel and J and I decided not to repeat the princess breakfast, but F made it very clear that she was not happy with that choice. We’re going back to Disneyland next week to celebrate her 6th birthday and I figured, since we skipped a year, that she might want to have breakfast with the princesses again. Nope! “Mom, I’m over princesses,” she told me. “They’re too babyish.”
My heart sank, just a little.
I was never a huge fan of the whole princess phenomenon, even though I remembered dressing up as a princess when I was a little girl – I just don’t love the message of the helpless girl always needing to be rescued by a boy. That being said, we let F enjoy her princess phase – I just tried to subtly balance it out by reading her books like “The Paper Bag Princess” and “Princess Smartypants” every once in a while, books that she loved. But when F announced that she was “over” it, it got to me because of what it meant in the bigger picture: my little beeb is growing up.
As hard as it is to wrap my head & heart around sometimes, I understand that it is what it is, it’s inevitable, and it’s just what kids do. She now prefers Katy Perry to Raffi, Star Wars to Sesame Street, red leggings to pink tutus. She can ride a bike and write a sentence and skip two monkey bars in one swing. She is growing up, even if it does feel like it’s happening too fast for me. At least she still loves to snuggle. Sometimes a good snuggle makes everything else bearable.