So we're having a girl. And I'm excited - it's what I was sincerely hoping for.
Don't get me wrong, I love our little Jr. His enormous head, drunken baby wobbly walk, and face-splitting dimply smile are highlights of every one of my days. I'd be quite happy with six of him. I don't not want a boy, I just do want a girl.
But I have two very good reasons for wanting Bean to be a girl (not for not wanting a boy, savvy?):
Reason one: I have a lot of girl stuff, and I even have an equation for you (because we all know how well math and I get along):
First baby + "girls are fun to buy for" = A. Lot. Of. Stuff.
As in, stuff Miss never wore once. New stuff. Pretty stuff. FREE stuff.
And as if that wasn't a good enough reason, there's another, even better one.
Reason two: We have no boy names. None. We used up our one beloved name on Jr. Enormous Head and have no others. Conversely, we have seventy-two girl names. (Forget the mini-van, our next family vehicle is going to be a school bus.)
Jr's been practicing. He's had some time to work on his older sister's name, now we've got four months to teach him how to say his younger sister's.
So far, we've made it to Wah-woh and Dee-doo.
I'm tempted to stop practicing.
