Can’t sleep and can’t breathe. I am free and clear to do whatever activity I so deem worthy and appropriate, and that activity is mostly eating. I am starving, but also really tormented digestionally.
Also, I am having a girl.
And you guys.
I’m insanely happy about this (as long as Caleb doesn’t express a desire to try one more time for another son.)
Merrick was bummed for about five minutes about not getting a Phinneas to his Ferb, and then we all sort of zeroed in on the fact that Arbor will grow up with a sister close in age, and that got us excited.
Honestly. I can’t wait to paint them girls’ little piggies, and watch Frozen on repeat, and make unicorn pancakes. They can share a room, it’ll be so dope. And? Matching outfits. Matching outfits on ALL the days.
Names: it’s important we all understand my all-or-nothing approach to everything. The artist-standard obscure hippy side of my brain wants to go with Valor, or Cedar, or Ember; but then sensible Toni chimes in with Lucy and Annabelle and Johanna. (And in defense of Lucy, I have loved it since I was 12, as documented throughout other naming adventures over the past decade, and Caleb is pitching it extra hard.) (Side note: Pretty sure we would have found ourselves with a Duncan or a Slade had “she” been a “he”.)
I am experiencing a slight urge to nest (cleaning and rearranging and decorating and organizing…okay, a strong urge.) and have been able to rally the children to my cause–they’ve been moving furniture and hauling boxes and basically being very helpful and obedient children when it comes to Mom’s random bouts of feng shui.
Basketball is dominating our schedule right now, soon to be replaced by baseball and softball; I’m thinking of steering Arbor into a more low key activity like, I dunno, kite flying; cause organized sports are going to be the death of me, I can already tell. (This is a terrible plan since Arbor’s energy and strong willed-ness will not be contained in anything less than probably super-extreme competitive parkour-ninjutsu.
Speaking of strong willed-ness, Arbor is potty training. We’ve had a fairly successful week but I’ve also witnessed some of Arbor’s most epic tantrums. It’s like wearing big girl panties (or as she likes to call them, “pammies”; I DIE) has kicked up her sense of independence (and sass).
Overnight she grew six inches taller and started speaking in complete sentences and counting to ten in three different languages. I’m not sure how this preschooler replaced my toddler who replaced my teensy bald-headed baby.
Kids grow up. Did you guys know that?