Last night I had a nightmare. I woke up all sweaty with my heart pounding. I was terrified and shaken and had to take a moment to convince myself that it was just a dream and not real life. I dreamed that baby #2 was a boy.
I don't know why I'm so terrified of having a boy. Actually, that's a lie. I know exactly why, but the reasons are too dumb to admit on the internet. I think it boils down to the fact that I don't think I'd be a good mother to a boy. I hate sports and secretly hope Beatrice wants to skip soccer and t-ball for ballet and gymnastics. If I had a boy, I would be the mom on the sideline playing Angry Birds on my phone instead of watching the game. Boys are messy and pee all over the seat. Both of my little brothers had dried boogers plastered all over their walls because they picked their noses at night. Gross, gross, gross. Boys like bugs and snakes and I have irrational fears of such things. I recognize my weaknesses and raising boys does not seem like something that I'd be very good at. So as you can see, my fears about having one are kind of valid.
I have spent all day trying to convince God why I need another girl. I know how to teach girls how to be godly women because I am one. I like kitties and horses and pink and dresses and shoes and all kinds of girl stuff. I can do some pretty awesome little girl hairdos. I'm good at being a girl and if I only have girl children, we can be good at being girls together and everyone wins. Mmmkay, God? Pretty please? Puhleeeeeeeeeez???
JD says I'm being ridiculous. He knows all of my true reasons for being afraid of having a boy and says I need to embrace the challenge of tackling something that I'm not fully comfortable with. I say phooey. I really want another girl and I'm just hoping that God considers the thoughtful and poignant presentation I pitched to Him today. We shall see in 5 more weeks.
I'm totally gonna have a boy, aren't I?