If this breaking news surprised the hell out of you, imagine how we felt. I peed on 3 sticks and was still shocked when the ultrasound showed a baby in there.
Boogs is pumped to be a brother. . .but he also has no idea what that entails so I suspect that enthusiasm will wane as soon as the baby gets here. We let him name her while she’s on the inside, and in a surprise to no one, he immediately landed on Lucy. But he’ll probably call her Lulu when she gets here. Or maybe Sally. He’s got about 6 months to figure it out which is plenty of time and also no time at all.
I realize all that makes it sound like we know if it’s a boy or girl, but we don’t and we won’t until she gets here (a choice Boogs is decidedly not on board with). Having said that, however, my gut and both the Chinese and Mayan gender predictors say girl so stone cold fact: it’s a girl.
The girl thing is great in that with one of each, surely people will finally stop asking when we’re having another one, right? (STOP ASKING PEOPLE THAT.) But it’s terrible in that I will officially be the only parent. Jesse has told me several times that the level of sucker he is with Boogs is just the beginning if we have a girl. Basically any time I leave the house, all 3 of them will be raising themselves.
Other concerns include a 6 ½ year age gap with these children, being mistaken for the grandparents when she starts kindergarten, and that the stereotypical second child neglect has already begun: the OB gave me a bag full of information a couple weeks ago, and I haven’t even taken it out of the bag yet; with Boogs, I read every word as soon as I got home.
Or maybe I shouldn’t think of it as stereotypical second child neglect so much as advanced parenting. Yes. Let’s go with that.