Aug. 16th, 2006 03:54 pm
Gender--it's what's for dinner
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textualdevianceSo, the past couple of weeks, I've experienced The Gender Thing first-hand.
Not that it's uncommon, of course, but this was kind of a perfect example of how kids get gendered from birth. Or, in this case, before birth.
One of our sports guys just became a father for the second time. He has a five year old girl already. He and his wife were hoping for a boy this time--and expecting one, since ultrasounds had said that's what they were getting.
Well, it wasn't a boy. After baby showers and a boy-themed nursery, etc. it wasn't until the c-section that they found out they had another daughter.
As soon as the office found out, everyone flipped, like it was the most amazing thing, ever. When the guy came back to work, he was besieged with people--male and female--quizzing him about how he was dealing with having a girl instead of his expected boy. Some folks seemed downright horrified. Me, I just shrugged and said there was no need to trade the wardrobe in--he could just have a tomboy, instead. Our one sports gal overheard me and vociferously agreed. Heh.
The wife brought the sprog in today. Cute sprog--lots of hair, rather froglike in appearance--but double The Gender Thing happened as soon as the baby entered the newsroom. Every. Woman. There. suddenly flooded the sports pen as if the sprog was some sort of fleshy gravitational field. The guys, meanwhile, seemed slightly annoyed, as they were trying to do their jobs. Only a couple came by--one who looks like a doting dad type, and one sort of ping-ish one.
I was amused, though--one of our designers has always pinged a bit for me (she carries her wallet in her back pocket, wears no makeup, walks with a swagger, etc. Frankly, I think she's a hottie. ;) ) She came over with the flock of hens and watched the baby for a while. But then it moved. With a shiver and an exclamation of, "oh my god, that's creepy," she wandered back to her desk. I giggled to myself.
To his credit, dad has taken the flurry of interest in stride. He seems a little disoriented, but not upset by having another daughter.
I find myself wondering if the situation would've been any different if it were reversed. I wonder if people would've been horrified about someone who was expecting a girl, but got a boy. Or if it's less a matter of relative value and more a matter of just not getting that the world doesn't invert itself if gender changes. We're so conditioned to think of males and females as drastically different species that it's disconcerting for most people to not know or get a rude surprise about someone's gender or anatomy. Meh.
The one strange effect of this thing is that I did get a bit of a "gah. want one." reaction to seeing the sprog today. That's kind of been happening to me lately as I'm getting older and realizing I have a very small window of time between the end of school and when I'm just way too old to expect to have anything near a healthy pregnancy (or one at all, chemicals or no.) It isn't that I get the sort of freaky, half-high feeling of CYOOOOT! GIMMEH! but more just a "fuck. I'm how old? Guess I'd best do this if I'm going to do it at all" sort of thing. I guess babies are contagious.
Not that it's uncommon, of course, but this was kind of a perfect example of how kids get gendered from birth. Or, in this case, before birth.
One of our sports guys just became a father for the second time. He has a five year old girl already. He and his wife were hoping for a boy this time--and expecting one, since ultrasounds had said that's what they were getting.
Well, it wasn't a boy. After baby showers and a boy-themed nursery, etc. it wasn't until the c-section that they found out they had another daughter.
As soon as the office found out, everyone flipped, like it was the most amazing thing, ever. When the guy came back to work, he was besieged with people--male and female--quizzing him about how he was dealing with having a girl instead of his expected boy. Some folks seemed downright horrified. Me, I just shrugged and said there was no need to trade the wardrobe in--he could just have a tomboy, instead. Our one sports gal overheard me and vociferously agreed. Heh.
The wife brought the sprog in today. Cute sprog--lots of hair, rather froglike in appearance--but double The Gender Thing happened as soon as the baby entered the newsroom. Every. Woman. There. suddenly flooded the sports pen as if the sprog was some sort of fleshy gravitational field. The guys, meanwhile, seemed slightly annoyed, as they were trying to do their jobs. Only a couple came by--one who looks like a doting dad type, and one sort of ping-ish one.
I was amused, though--one of our designers has always pinged a bit for me (she carries her wallet in her back pocket, wears no makeup, walks with a swagger, etc. Frankly, I think she's a hottie. ;) ) She came over with the flock of hens and watched the baby for a while. But then it moved. With a shiver and an exclamation of, "oh my god, that's creepy," she wandered back to her desk. I giggled to myself.
To his credit, dad has taken the flurry of interest in stride. He seems a little disoriented, but not upset by having another daughter.
I find myself wondering if the situation would've been any different if it were reversed. I wonder if people would've been horrified about someone who was expecting a girl, but got a boy. Or if it's less a matter of relative value and more a matter of just not getting that the world doesn't invert itself if gender changes. We're so conditioned to think of males and females as drastically different species that it's disconcerting for most people to not know or get a rude surprise about someone's gender or anatomy. Meh.
The one strange effect of this thing is that I did get a bit of a "gah. want one." reaction to seeing the sprog today. That's kind of been happening to me lately as I'm getting older and realizing I have a very small window of time between the end of school and when I'm just way too old to expect to have anything near a healthy pregnancy (or one at all, chemicals or no.) It isn't that I get the sort of freaky, half-high feeling of CYOOOOT! GIMMEH! but more just a "fuck. I'm how old? Guess I'd best do this if I'm going to do it at all" sort of thing. I guess babies are contagious.
