Week 34:  Boy Crazy


I wonder if the new baby will want a pacifier, a thumb or anything at all. (And yes, I do plan to introduce one of them to him). Despite the painful weaning process, I consider these too much of a sanity saver to do without for baby No. 3.)

Actually, watching Zach and Jacob day in and day out, I wonder if these three boys (an ultrasound confirmed that my baby is of the male persuasion) will be alike at all. Every second or third-time parent I know has produced beings that seem to have sprung from completely separate gene pools. If one's talkative and physical, for example, the other's quiet and studious. It is going to be interesting to learn what kind of personality this third little Gem Stone of ours will have.  Hopefully the cells crossed over while in process creating something in the middle of Hyper Diaper and a Mamas boy.

With four boys in the house (I'm also including my "big boy," Dan, here), I wonder if our daily life will resemble a fun filled episode of Wrestle Mania, with me making an occasional token appearance with the placard showing which round we're in. Of course, everyone seems to have an opinion about my predicament: "Three boys?" some say with a look of sympathy. "You're going to have your hands full, huh?" Others touch their heart and sigh, "Oh, that's wonderful. Boys are so much easier than girls."  I of coarse breath a big sigh of relief after hearing that one hoping it's true, but knowing that everyone has their limits so who could possibly say which gender is easier. . .Is there an easier one??

I guess I'll just have to wait and see which scenario I get. I'm sure it'll be a little of both, with worries about broken bones from roughhousing and carpal tunnel syndrome from too many computer games with Daddy coupled with relief over not having to search under the couch for microscopic Barbie shoes or administer the Awkward Sex Talk (we've agreed that this'll be Dan's job).

When it comes right down to it, though, the closer I get to my due date (5.5 weeks away and counting), the more excited I am to welcome another Y chromosome into our family. I admit that it's not as fun to dress up little boys in baby outfits (then again, it's not as frustrating to watch them puke or poop on them). But thinking back on the endearing and definitively masculine things that Zach and Jacob would do from their early inquiries about the "penis" to their insistence on running around the house in nothing but socks and a smile saying, "I'm naked!" I know without a doubt that I'm a lucky woman.

 

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