Give Me Boys!

Having a baby girl is a whole different experience than a baby boy. I was so excited when I found out Ashley was coming, and wasn't going to be an...Asher. I went right out after the ultrasound to buy her her first pink outfit, and I spent the next five months doing nothing but shopping for girl clothes. It was so so fun.

And Iwas living in a dream world. Ashley came out and looked fantastic in her clothes. Steven kept telling me I had my wish: a real LIVE baby doll to dress up. The only problem was the attitude.

My baby came out with an attitude. I don't know why I was surprised. She and I used to go round and round when I was prego. She poke out her elbow in an attempt to get some space, and it would hurt so badly, so I'd push at her to poke it back in. And she'd poke it back out. And I'd push it back in. Get the picture? Every. Day.

And I've always maintained that while girls are loads of fun, boys are easier. Simply because of hormones. Girls are hormonal at two freaking years old.

And at ten years old also. Puberty? Doesn't matter. Much.

At least this is my mom-of-a-pre-puberty-tween-girl opinion.

Yesterday she spent two and a half hours sobbing. Bawling. Hysterical that nobody likes her. Now why she felt this way, I still don't know. She and I had a wonderful morning, fixing her hair, and discussing make up (and why I'm a good mom for insisting she NOT wear any to church or school until she's 12, including colored lip gloss). I was a bit perturbed that she snuck some (of the colored gloss) into her primary class, and that stuff was hooker red, I kid you not. (And she didn't even bother to hide the evidence!) But, I got over it, and when we got home, we continued to have a good afternoon.

We were finally gonna open her b-day presents and cut her cake. Yes, I realize it was 3 days late, but that's another story. She was excited. But I had to clean up the kitchen (b/c you can't have a party on top of the sausage grease and egg-caked pans on the counter from breakfast) and she needed to pick up her room at bit.

And after about two hours in her room, she had only done a few things. She had thrown her new clean church clothes down in a ball in the corner of her closet amist some trash. And she had pulled out every polly pocket she owns all over her floor.

And I didn't even yell. I just said that she knows what I'm thinking, and she needs to take care of it. Now.

And she was still fine.

And then she was all of a sudden crying. Sobbing. And we couldn't figure out why. And she told everyone to get out. So we let her be.

She managed to sob out that nobody likes her and she doesn't want a birthday party b/c there's only four presents and it's not worth it. And she stayed in there, sitting on her closet floor, crying for two hours. And when we finally made her come out for the party she didn't want, she continued to sob in the kitchen. Until I put the candles in the cake. And the faucet stopped. Suddenly.

WHAT THE HECK??

In Steven's words: "Buy the girl some corks, because it's a-coming."