About a little girl
While I’ve been a mother of a boy for six fun-filled years, I’ve been a mother of a little girl for even longer – nine wonderful years. And I’ve made some observations about girls too.
Girls are independent spirits. She will already be putting on her own shoes, choosing her own clothes and doing her own hair before you have laid out the lovely outfit you chose the night before
Girls will not want to wear the outfit you chose the night before. They will want to wear all pink, or all purple, or the tutu you got them for ballet, or the fairy wings with the yellow wellies. They have a fairly eclectic sense of what goes together, but it is their sense and they will fight tooth and nail for it.
You will often find yourself wondering at the incredible beauty of your little girl and other times, just hope that the neighbours don’t see her wandering around the supermarket in a vest, groucho glasses, ballet shoes and a pair of green tights.
She will spend hours drawing, colouring, sticking, covering things with glitter, writing her alphabet and doing puzzles. She will not understand when all her brother wants to do is roll around with a balloon.
She will giggle uncontrollably, like really uncontrollably. And you will find yourself laughing because really, nothing can be that funny. Yet it is.
She will remove all of the beans from her bean bag, because it isn’t like you told her not to.
Ditto the day she brought gravel in from the garden, put it on her indoor trampoline and started to jump.
She will do gymnastics at every opportunity. Swinging upside down on bars, doing cartwheels, tumbles and forward rolls. She will not sit normally. She will lie on her back with her legs in the air.
She will show incredible stamina, walking for miles as long as you sing with her, talk with her, point things out to her.
She will worry about the future. Her head will be filled with strange responsibilities that you are sure you never put there. She is observing you.
She has a mind like a steel trap. She will never forget a promise you made to her or a throwaway comment made a month ago.
She will draw you pictures and write you notes.
She will keep secrets close and frustrate you no end.
She will sulk.
She will dole out her affection as though it has a limit, when you know it does not.
She will fill your heart every minute and amaze you every day.
Of course every boy and girl are completely different. Some boys will be more like my girl and some girls will be more like my boy and sometimes my boy and girl are more like each other than they would care to admit. Riley went through a stage of insisting I put his short hair in bunches (like Maisie’s) for the school run and I have a lovely picture of him fast asleep on his father wearing a fairy outfit, swimming goggles and flippers.
And Maisie spent most of her first ever nativity play standing still at the back with one finger firmly planted up her nose.
But when I have to think about writing a girl for my books, I always think about mine. My MCs are complicated and kick ass, just like my daughter (she’s a karate blue belt at the moment and has never once taken prisoners) and I’m pretty sure she’ll love a story about pirates just as much as her brother, especially as the love interest, Ayla, could take Toby, his father and most of the other pirates on the Phoenix with one hand tied behind her back.