"It looks like a girl," the ultrasound tech said to me. She had to leave the room for a minute, and I looked at Mr W saying, "Why don't I believe her?" He just laughed at me, "Well, gee, maybe because we have all those boys at home?"
I was not totally surprised, but I was not willing to believe it either. When we couldn't come up with a girl name, I was further convinced that the amnio would tell us it was a boy afterall. But no, I was wrong. Definately a girl. I remember hounding my dr for the results, and running outside as Mr W was heading off to work to tell him everything was ok and that it was indeed, a girl. He looked at me with the patience of a man that has withstood the insanity of a pregnant wife three times before--a mixture of "do I push it?" and amusement. "Now do you believe them?"
Well. Let me just say that after three boys, I got a girl alright.
She is all girl. Last summer, her obsession was shoes. I swear, I had no idea a toddler could have more pairs of shoes than her mother. She has since moved on to purses (briefly) and lippy (still raging on). She loves brushes, but is not really into barrettes.
But the newest obsession is dresses. She spent the winter in dresses and tights. It's a good thing that it doesn't snow here, because that would've made my life even more interesting.
"My dressie," she insists every morning. Last week, I succumbed to the siren call of the Baby Gap. I usually have Nolan steer me clear of the entrance, b/c I know what lies within. I'm usually really, really good about waiting for sales and not going overboard. Until last week. My friend Jane and I were in there, and she bought her an adorable dress...and I found the matching shoes, but not in her size. When we got home, she of course put her new dress on immediately, but "where are my shoes?" was the next thing I heard. We laughed at her, and she couldn't be sidetracked. So of course, Mom called and found them in her size. And she now sports the little shoes to match her dress. So cute! When I went back for the shoes, they were unpacking a slew of new spring dresses...uh oh. "Looook, Mommy. Dressie!" Oy. I glance around, and omg, I can't believe the cuteness. She's very particular, she likes the swirly skirt. If it won't float out when she twirls, she's not interested. I'm looking around, thinking, man, am I in trouble.
I confess. I went back and got her a couple more. (okay, 3 of them, plus a polka-dotted number from Old Navy) While I cringe at the splurge, I realize she'll be wearing them all spring and summer, and I've already washed two of them to death b/c she wears them all the time now. What's that formula we women use to justify the splurge? How many times you wear the splurge vs. how much you paid for it?
Even Mr W was teasing me the other day about it...but he also was smitten with cuteness the day we showed them all to him.
Hey, at least she's still wearing dresses. I'm not ready for the plumber-butt jeans yet. My friends assure me this will pass, and that in a year or two, she'll be all about anything that's not a dress.
Her birthday is approaching rapidly. She'll be three in April, and I've got that on the brain since she's my last little one. I'm trying to enjoy the moments more, even when she's having a fit, moreso when I can't find her, and finally see her tucked up under her one of her brother's arms, watching tv.
And I'm happy to report that I have no lingering baby lust--thank goodness. I got to hold a sweet-smelling two month old just the other day...and happily handed her over to her Mom when it was time to go.
Nope, I'm done.
One little girly girl is plenty, especially when she chooses to accessorize her dress pockets with rocks.