As I type this my beautiful 2-year-old daughter is cuddled next to me in bed singing along to Emmet Otter’s Jug Band Christmas.
This is, perhaps, the twentieth time she’s requested this video in two days. Sometimes I watch her singing the bits she knows, swaying back and forth to the music and my heart nearly explodes right out of my chest. I swoon.
I love this girl so much it scares me sometimes.
To think that I was afraid to have a daughter. I was! For some bizarre reason, maybe because my mom had a boy and then a girl (me), I figured I’d have a boy first.
I am loathe to admit this but I cried at Violet’s ultrasound when we found out she was a girl. Not so much because I was upset that I was having a girl, I really was ready to accept whatever gender, so long as it was a healthy baby. But I’d had this idea of a little boy in my head for so long that learning the baby was really a girl meant that little boy didn’t exist. I was crying for a little boy who didn’t exist, who never existed.
I think that because my relationship with my mom has been so rocky throughout my life, I was afraid to have a girl. I am so not a girly-girl, how will I raise a girl? I don’t even have a sister and girls still scare me. What a bunch of drama, I’d think. Yes, drama may still be in our future but I am so grateful to have my sweet Violet. What would I do without her? I really don’t know. She truly is my best little pal with the greatest sense of humor.
I guess I just wanted those first-timers among you who are hoping for one sex over the other to know that I didn’t get what I expected the first time around and I am so glad about that every, single day. And hey! What do you know? The little boy I always dreamed about does exist now and certainly worth the wait. He’s lying on the other side of me right now, grinning at me like a loon. A big smiler, this one is. So what I’m saying is it’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.