Boys, Interrupted

*This was written back in June after we had the first of many (and many more to come) ultrasounds.  

We interrupt our regularly scheduled program of blue and red, polo's and plaid, and cargo's and khakis.....to bring you ruffles and ribbons, pink and purple, and tights and tutus.  Girl things.

It is a girl.  We're having a "little miss."  

So ingrained in my vocabulary these past 6 and half years is "buddy" or "mister."  As in...
"You did a good job, buddy!"
"You better stop throwing your bowls off the balcony, mister!"
Or my favorite: "Young man!  When I catch up to you, you aren't going to like it!"

Now it might be....
"Hold still, little miss, while I attach this utterly frivolous and extremely feminine explosion of pink ribbon to your newborn hairless head with something sticky:  honey or K-Y or Karo syrup or Elmer's glue should do the trick."
"Young lady!  Stop calling your older brother Katherine and chasing him around with my perfume and lip gloss! And NO!  You will not get a sister, little miss!"

When the ultrasound tech put the magic wand on my gelled up belly, the first thing she said was, "Well, you're having a girl."  All nonchalant like.  And then she swiftly moved on to measuring the baby's stomach and bladder.

"Wait a minute!" I said.  "You have to go back to the parts that clearly denote that this squirmy little thing in my tummy is indeed of the feminine persuasion.  GO BACK!"  I demand.

Sure enough, the technologist found the pertinent parts and pointed them out to my satisfaction.  And then I had her re-point them out.  You would think that I was staring at an alien from the dethroned planet of Pluto. I was just so shocked and not ready to start thinking pink.  But there it was in black and white. 
 
I sense a shift in paradigms.  For me and our boys.  I'm bracing myself now for a whole different world of "issues."  Perhaps I'm more ready for it than I think?  After all, I do have some experience with girls.....seeing as how I am one!


But, if truth be known, I had a pang of worry this morning about my world being turned on its navy blue ear.  I awoke to a very cheery and bright eyed Owen two inches from my drowsy, sleep smashed face.  He gently said, "Good morning my prettiest princess!"  Then he gave me a kiss and went on his merry way to play demolition derby (or something of the sort).

I had this very selfish thought......"Am I about to be de-throned?"  Is there room for two prettiest princesses in this testosterone filled palace?  

I'm currently in the process of making room.  (Her's will be in our closet.  But that is another tale for another time.)