Earlier today, with my eldest in tow, my husband and I trooped off through the freezing rain (have I mentioned that I’m still not certain that we haven’t moved to a nicer climate? Because I TOTALLY DON’T KNOW WHY NOT) to get our 3D ultrasound. And I’ll admit it to you, dear Internet, I was nervous. I’m not really certain WHY I was nervous, but I was. I guess it’s probably in part because my OB’s office wouldn’t authorize this frivolous un-medically necessary and because I’ve been sick as a dog this week, waking every couple of hours only to go right back to sleep.
(insert joke about regression into newborn state being an obvious indicator of how my not-so-brilliant mind works)
Either way, I was full of The Nervous.
What if she was now a he, like that Lou Reed song? Would I put my son in a dress in order to make use of all the pretty ickle dresses I’ve been hoarding? Would he hate me if I did that? Would I even care?
Turns out, it was all for naught. My daughter, in all of her spread-eagled glory, showed us that definitively yes, we were having a girl. And not only a girl who is completely immodest, but a girl who looks just like her father and her middle brother.
Dave certainly cannot deny parentage of his children, that is for sure.
Yes, sir, that’s my baby. Chubby edible delicious cheekies and all.
And, as a completely off topic veer, I’d like to thank my good friend Emily from Wheels on The Bus for nominating me for a blog award.
Two of them, in fact. Neither of which I will actually win, because, I’m just not a winner and because the competition is brutal, but if you’re so inclined to vote for your Aunt Becky, click on the bubblely thing on my side-bar.
And if you do, I will totally kiss you. With tongue, even.
Thanks, Em. I’m so flattered, I could pee myself. Oh, wait, I just did.