"Alfalfa, will you swing me before we have lunch?"
"Sure, Darla."
"Say, Romeo. What about your promise to the He-Man-Woman-Haters-Club?"
"I'm sorry, Spanky. I've got to live my own life."
When I was in kindergarten a little girl named Judy used to walk home from school with me. She lived up the street from me about five houses, and on the corner before her house we'd stop and I'd ask her to kiss me.
Beg actually. She'd comply with a sweet smile and then run along home.
If there was a day she didn't walk home with me, then Ronnie, the bully on our block, would stand on his fence and throw rocks at me and call me sissy-boy.
With Judy, kisses and no bullying. (She'd tell Ronnie to stop it.)
Without Judy, no kisses and bullying. (Ronnie didn't stop it and I whimpered and ran.)
From that point on I've always had an affinity for strong women -- personally, professionally, intimately and as friends. My mother and sister made sure of that.
I dig chicks. What can I say. I've sailed the estrogen sea my whole life without crashing on the rocky shore of failed maleness...
Fast forward to this past Sunday night at 8:31 p.m. Mama had me put my hand on her belly to see if I could feel Bryce.
And finally I did! Two strong kicks from belly-bound Bryce!
Then yesterday morning we were off to get our fancy schmancy 20-week 4D ultrasound (and of course the standard ultrasound diagnostics).
Amazing to watch the little one float, roll, scratch and kick in the uterine pool while our ultrasound tour guide Lance glided the electronic wand over Mama's wet belly and told us our baby was on the mark with everything intact. Our smiles matched the white glow of the monitors in the Scanbabies dimmed diagnostic room.
The moment of truth -- we wanted to know the gender. Originally we were going to wait like we did with Bea, but Mama looked at me, smiled and said:
"It's up to you."
I wanted to know. I really did. We both thought it was a boy but all we really cared about was another healthy baby.
"And if you look here and here you will see..."
Yes, that would be a girl. Another lovely little girl. Sweet Baby Bryce.
Baby Bea and Baby Bryce. B-squared and the daddy who sailed the estrogen sea...
For both my girls, I long for a he-man-woman-hater-free society. Until then I'll keep fighting the good fight to end violence against women.
And if anything ever happens to them, I'm coming after you. You can count on it.
Ah, we are living the good life, Sweetie. Bring on the flowers and pink ribbons all over the house. Love you!
ReplyDeleteCongratulations :D. Two girls! I don't have first hand experience but this weekend my younger brother Shawn was here with his clan - they have three girls - all I can say is when they get to be about 10 - 13 - bring on the earplugs. Those girls argue non-stop - haha.
ReplyDeleteZac was actually in the back seat when it was happening and sent me a text saying, "I'm glad I'm an only child" - hahaha.
So happy for you and your estrogen sea.