Driving up the mountain

Today, on our way up the mountain to pick S-O up from school, this 45 second conversation ensued between Baby Rae (2yrs old) and I:

"Mommy, I need my tap shoes. Hahahahahahaha! I mean BALLET shoes. Hahahahahah! I said tap shoes. Not my tap shoes, I need my ballet shoes so I can chasse' down the street (me: ?). Watch out for the bears, Mommy!!! (me: the bears?) Yes, the bears in the cave. Don't drive to the bears in the cave. I am thirsty. Can I have water? (me: when we get to...) Jacob got a spanking because he opened the door and ran into the street. The cars could hit him. (me: that's right, you nev....) I need to find my nockelers (me: nockelers? do you mean binoculars?). Yes, my nockelers. (me: when we get home I'll look for them). Go find them now Mommy. I need them. I SEE A LION, oh no!!! We better run, quick. HAhahahahah! I don't mean run. You are driving. Not running. Oh NO, there's a goat. I'm scared of the goat. I need the nockelers to find the goat. I love you Mommy, can I have some chips. (me: (sigh) I love you too)."

Spring?

Where are you, sweet sweet Spring?

I need you. I want you. I long for your floral blooms and warm pollen-filled sky!

Oh, Spring!

It's a BOY!!!!!!

Or maybe it's a girl. We don't know, YET.

However, EVERYONE seems to have an opinion.
I don't mind people guessing or speculating the gender of Baby J.
I don't even mind when they ask if we're hoping for a boy or another girl.

It's the ones that say, "Oh, I bet you're hoping for a boy this time," that REALLY gets on my nerves. Or worse, "Oh NO! What if you get ANOTHER girl!!!" You know, as though having THREE girls would be the kiss of death or something.

Why do people automatically assume I/we want, hope and wish this baby is a boy?

I guess it all ties into the 'American Dream', where everyone SHOULD want to have 2.5 children, of which one is a boy and one is a girl. What about that .5?

What if I tell you I would absolutely LOVE another girl?
What if I tell you I would absolutely LOVE a boy?
What if...what if I tell you how I'd really like to answer the question of whether or not we are hopeful for a boy?

I'd say:
"Frankly, I don't give a flying flip about the gender of our baby! I just hope and pray during each OB visit that when the nurse places the cold microphone-looking wand on my lower abdomen we will hear a strong 'swhoosh, swhoosh, swhoosh.' I pray that in less than a month, the ultra sound technician has a smile on her face as she waves the blue goop slathered sonogram receiver over my naval, and I hope she maintains her smile throughout the entire survey. I pray that sometime in July, I give birth to a screaming crying baby who nuzzles into my neck and suddenly calms down with the peace of knowing I am HIS or HER Mommy. So, no, I don't care if it's a boy, or a girl for that matter. I just want a living breathing baby to hold."

But, THAT wouldn't be the 'nice' answer.

So, in the meantime, when people ask me if I'm hoping for a boy/girl, I will say "Yes." Because I am.

My Girl

Last week, while working with my 5yr old on her speech therapy homework, we came across a list of questions.

One question read, "What do you need to buy something from the store?"

Her answer: "Coupons"

That's MY GIRL!!!!

A WARNING to all Expectant Fathers:

NEVER, I repeat, NEVER ask or say the following to your significant other, who is pg with your child:

- "Who ate all the queso? I only got a little bit when we opened the jar three days ago!"

- "Ranch dip? On _____________ (insert any food the pg woman is eating like eggs, pancakes, peanut butter and tomato sandwich, apples...etc)

- "Wow Honey, you can already fit into my pants?"

- "I am so tired."

- "My _________ (insert any part of the human body) hurts."

Today, we are thankful for...

Yes, it's true. Joy comes in the morning.
Well, it will one warm summer day in July 2010.

Of Husbands and Sleeping

A few nights ago, during S-O's bedtime routine:

S-O: Why can't I sleep in your bed with you and Daddy.
me: Because you have your bed and Daddy and I have ours.

S-O: Why do you sleep with Daddy?
me: Because he is my husband and we love each other, so we sleep together.

S-O: I love you and Daddy. Can't I sleep in ya'lls bed? I don't want to sleep by myself.
me: No. When you grow up and have your own husband, he can sleep in your bed with you.

S-O: I have an idea. When I grow up and get a husband, you can sleep in my bed with my husband and I'll sleep in your bed.