How I REALLY feel about having a third boy.

Of course we're thrilled to have a healthy baby baking away, but I know you are all wondering just how I feel about having a third boy.  And will we go for four? 

I'm relieved.  No, really.  The funny thing is, we started into this journey and I was not-so-secretly hoping for a girl.  I love my two boys and I'm thrilled they are so close and have so much fun together, but I was ready for a sweet little pink bundle to pamper. 

Then I thought some more.  The trials and tribulations of raising a girl in this over-sexualized world, where pre-teens can't find modest attractive clothes, and the pressures to disrespect yourself are overwhelming just seemed too much to handle.  I know I was a "handful" for my parents and while I contend that I'd be thrilled to have a daughter just like me or my HS girlfriends (we partied and pushed boundaries, but ended up as a CPA, PhD, event planner and a social worker) I know that things are even harder today than they were 20 years ago.

And I thought even more.  We already own everything we could possibly need for a boy.  I have boxes full of clothes for every season in every size (Thanks Alicia and Tami!).  The toy room is stuffed full of dinosaurs and trains and tractors.  Even the cloth diapers are in shades of blue, green, yellow and white with no pink or purple to be found.  I would want to buy bows and cute shoes, and adorable bloomers to go under her sweet frilly dresses, and there would be dolls and princesses and babies to add to the playroom.  We'd redecorate the nursery from blue nautical to pink nautical (Can't get me away from anchors and lighthouses!).  All of these things cost $$$ just when we're trying to focus on being a more financially responsible family.

Even Pete told me on the way to the ultrasound that he wanted another Baby Brother, just like Chester.  He wants LOTS of baby brothers.  Yeah, kid, I'm not sure I can survive another pregnancy, so I think you're just getting this one last baby brother.  The boys have so much fun together, wrestling and playing with balls and dogs and trains and cars.  I love to see them interact, and I hope they remain as close as they are today.  Though, Chester can't even talk yet, so I'm sure he'll have a few choice words for Pete as they get older.

So, what am I going to miss?  I'll miss braiding hair, tying ribbons in pigtails, ballet lessons, Easter dresses,  prom dress shopping, handing down my Alpha Phi legacy, first love, true love, wedding planning and seeing her give birth to her first child.  What won't I miss?  Ratty hair that she won't let me comb, failed ballet lessons traded for lacrosse and field hockey (nothing wrong with those, just things I know nothing about!), skinned knees in those adorable little dresses, disappointment when she chooses a different sorority or forgoes rush entirely, broken hearts that I can't heal, bridezilla, heartache over losses and general pregnancy misery that I can't solve for her. 

I'll keep my boys, thank you very much, with a list like that, I'll just borrow my friends' little girls and be Auntie Sue.  We'll go to lunch and I'll hold your hands while your daughters select outrageous dresses that you have to veto.  I'll bring over the cocktails and listen while you bemoan the hormonal crabby teenager your sweet little princess has become.  Then I'll show you pictures of the latest 4-wheeler or hockey injury and you can giggle.  I promise my sons I'll try my best to be a warm and inviting, but not overbearing mother in law.  I already have a good role-model, let's just see if I can remember how to be like Karen 25 years from now.  Maybe my future daughter-in-laws will let me come dress shopping and put together wedding flowers and favors and come to help with the older toddlers while she snuggles the newborn.  Or maybe I'll pass on all the drama and put in my only request: Our Mother/Son dance to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Simple Man.