Great Expectations

11 days from now... I will get some pretty important news.
See? I adore my family. I live, breathe, move and wake up every single day for them. We've got a system in place, compliment eachother and love one another in ways no outsider could try to understand. So when I told my husband we were having another baby... besides his usual obsessive compulsive behavior tantrum... he worried how the dynamic of our family would be thrown off.
I, being the eternal pessimist I've always been (or at least tried to be) look forward to the challenge and know that no matter what, our family will adapt, grow, thrive and years from now, wonder how we ever were only 4.
My next thought is how I will feel at finding out what this new member of our family will be... not dog, cat or alien... but more importantly... boy or girl.
Bare with me as the drama pours out.
I love my boys. I am probably the least girly girl I know. I get along with boys, I appreciate their humor, their lack of drama, their stinky smells, their bodily fluids and functions. I know nothing else but boys. But deep down in the pit of my heart... there is a chamber, colored in pink, with lots of feathery pillows. There is a big mirror, pictures of Nick Jonas on the wall, sappy love songs playing in the background. There is makeup and nail polish, accessories and lots of shoes. Deep deep deeeep down inside, my longing for a daughter is truly overwhelming.
Now I know the whole deal with having babies. AS LONG AS IT'S HEALTHY! AS LONG AS IT HAS 10 FINGERS AND TOES! blah blah blah... of course as a mom, a human and someone who will adore this child with my entire heart I want all of those things, I pray for them every night and wish for them on the very first star I see at night. But my life would truly be complete if I got the news this baby was on team Vagina.
I think a girl would bring out a part of me I'd never thought I had. It would bring out a softer side of my husband he never knew was in there. And Lucas and Tyler would have someone special, delicate and soft to take care of... or maybe knock around and bruise.
I'd like to teach her about life, how cruel other girls can be, how the badder the boy, the cuter you'll think he is... how unfair it will seem to let the boys do things she won't be able to do. How important everything seems at 13, and how stupid all those things turn out to be when you're 30. How having a child can change your life completely, and how to keep your legs closed until you're at least 25 (or as long as I can sell this to her). How important your girlfriends are, but how much more important it is to know that your mom is always there for you.
I promise and swear not to be dissapointed if the news comes back any different. Because after all, being the only girl at home has it's amazing advantages... but knowing I'll never be a mom to a girl might sting a little... and eventhough you'll never see it... I may just shed a little tiny baby tear, which will be overshadowed by my husband's yells of happiness.
So 11 days... counting the days, hours, minutes... even seconds.