When I was newly pregnant with Little Evan, I spent a lot of time complaining about how tiny clothes and baby swings and car seats only came in PINK or BLUE and how SEXIST that was and how no child of mine was going to be forced into traditional societal gender roles, No Sirree Bob. Long live feminism! Down with patriarchy! Damn the man!

But once my inside baby became an outside baby that had needs – CONSTANT NEEDS – I no longer cared if he was dressed exclusively in gender neutral patterns and played only with organic wooden black and white patterned developmental toys. I was just happy to find a clean “Boys Will Be Boys” onesie while Evan quietly chewed on Baby’s First Football so I could brush my teeth for the first time in three days. I was too focused on survival parenting to bother labeling my parenting.

I’m not saying it’s IMPOSSIBLE to raise a child without some boys=blue and girls=pink mentality slipping in. More power to those who prioritize gender neutrality in their every day lives. But for me it took a back seat to breastfeeding struggles, poopsplosions, sleepless nights and just hoping I was doing a good job.

But then I look at my kids and realize I’m doing pretty well.

I DARE you to tell me I can't play with this stroller.

In our house, we never say “Don’t play with that, it’s for girls”. We never say “Boys don’t cry”. We don’t call things “sissy” or “wimpy” or “manly” or “tough”. We are just as likely to hand Caroline a truck to chew on as a flower shaped teether. If Little Evan asked for (another) doll for his birthday we would buy him (another) doll. If Caroline decides she wasn’t a blue tricycle she will get a blue tricycle (and I would thank my lucky stars she didn’t ask for the Disney Princess one that cost twice as much). They play with what they want, when they want, and nothing is expected of them besides good manners, sharing and putting things away when they are done.

That’s the kind of parenting I believe in.

While going through the toys and stuffed animals my mother had saved from my own childhood, I came across something that I think TOTALLY explains my current obsession with babywearing and baby carriers.

It's a baby backpack! For babies! To carry baby dolls!

So he wasn't as OMGSOEXCITED! about the backpack as I was, but he didn't mind posing for the pictures either. Hopefully in a couple months he'll actually like playing babywearing. Then his dolly can be handy any time he feels the need to pull her hair out with his teeth.

And here’s one more vintage photo of my aunt “wearing” me when I was a baby. It’s really a frame carrier, like the one I have in the guest room closet just in case we every decide to go hiking (AHAHAHAHAHAHA), but everyone in my family seemed to like it. My dad said he “wore” my brother all the time but I couldn’t find any pictures. That’s what happens when you’re the third child.

We were at Old Sturbridge Village. Bonnets were so hot right then.

Oh wait, I almost forgot this:

Overalls: Daddy's Baby carrier.