So, off to the sonographer I went. I thought it was a waste of time, really. I knew I was having a boy as my pregnancies were identical, I have rock-solid mothering instincts, (insert: sarcasm), and I had already made a bet with my sister that it was a boy. (My bets with my sister are brutal and humiliating).
Imagine our surprise when Leslie, while intently studying the picture on the screen, said, "It's a girl."
My mouth dropped open. Me, who was to be the mother of a herd of boys, apparently had a daughter. Um, how did that happen? I know what to do with boys: buy play clothes and direct them to dirt. I've watched my girlfriends with their daughters, and it just looks harder with slightly more, um, drama.
But, oh my word, I'm so excited I can hardly stand it.
We have a daughter! I get to buy pink and frilly outfits! We can have tea parties and play dress-up! I can put gigantic bows in her hair! She won't get married and leave me!
So very many things to be thrilled about. I've already delegated sewing projects to my Mom and Mother-in-Law. This little princess shall be greeted in style: frills, ruffles, glitter and a nursery with fru-fru in every corner.
Cause I'm the mommy of a daugther now. It's how we roll.