When Ellie was born and mountains of pink clothing were gifted to us, I hated pink. I dreaded pink. Why, oh why, did there have to be that gender-stereotype of pink? I refused to buy pink for her or for myself. There would be no pink, unless someone gifted us something unavoidably adorable. Pink was NOT going to define us! Here we are, nearly four years and two girls later, and I am a pink convert. I doubt it will ever be one of my favorite colors, but I have an appreciation for it that I never expected. Yes, pink has even found its way into my own wardrobe. Thanks to small European front loading washing machines, I wash whole loads of pink laundry. I do buy some pink clothes for Ellie (at her request), and baby Stephanie wears all of Ellie's too-small pink. And this morning, a pink-clad little person is sitting next to me.
It may never be one of my favorite colors, but sometimes pink melts my heart and steals my breath away.