Letter to my Second Child- Gender

My Dearest Baby,

I'm going this afternoon for my anatomy ultrasound and will hopefully find out if you are a girl or a boy. That is assuming that you'll show us, because you are quite the spunky little mover and enjoy kicking me hard in the bladder. I have a feeling that you are a boy and, I shouldn't tell you this, but that scares me some. Not that I love you any less for it, because I love you and your sister more than anything; but because I don't know how to raise a boy. I'm a girl, I have a girl, I'm a Girl Scout Leader, most of my friends are girls. I know girls. I don't know boys, so how can I raise you without you feeling hurt or left out if I can't relate to you.

I know I'm probably over thinking this (which I usually do) because women everywhere raise boys- single child boys, boys with brothers, boys with sisters, boys with both brothers and sisters... and they turn out okay.

I guess it's not so much having a boy, it's my fear of being able to raise a boy to be a man. Because honestly, not all boys grow up to be men. I want to raise you to be respectful, but not afraid to express yourself. I want you to treat women gentlemanly, but I don't want you to look at them as weaker and needing to be submissive to you. I want you to learn to listen to others' thoughts, concerns and opinions and care about how they feel. I want you to date "nice girls" and not skanky ones that you only date so you can bang them in the backseat of the car (which will probably be the 1994 Escort, because that thing is never going to die.) I want you to have passions and interests and follow your heart. I want you to be driven and motivated. I don't want your world to be ruled by beer, or cigarettes or god-forbid, drugs. I want you to be strong enough and convicted enough to say no. I want you to be able to say no to your friends when you don't agree with what they are doing.

I want you to be close to your sister and trust each other and support each other. I want you to grow up and talk on the phone or go out to lunch with each other. Your uncle was grown by the time I was born, so that's a dynamic I don't understand, so how can I teach it to you?

I hope I do right by you, baby. I want you to know how special you are and I hope I can help you grow into the man you're meant to be.

Love, Mom.

Letters to My Daughter

I've struggled with my weight since I was 10 years old and it's almost always gone up and never down. My mom used to yell at me that I would die young and I told her that I didn't care. But, now my life isn't mine. My life belongs to my daughter and the new child growing in me.

 

I joined a gym and gained weight. I stopped drinking pop (most of the time) and I gain weight. I don't buy chips, candy or cookies for the house and gained weight. I feel kinda hopeless.

 

I know it's kind of morbid, but I worry about dying and leaving my children, but not just because of my weight. People die unexpectedly every day. My step-nephew, at 17 years old, got in his truck to drive to work, hit black ice, ended up in a ditch, walked for help and later died from internal bleeding.

 

There's also been two incidents in the news where pregnant women ended up brain dead, so you never know. You never know.

 

 We never know when our number will be up. We like to think that we will die old, after a life well-lived, and that's probably true for most of us; but life doesn't come with a written guarantee.

 

We look forward and think about future milestones- when our kids graduate high school, go to college, start their careers, get married, have babies etc. We plan on being there, but it doesn't always happen. When I got engaged, I was so excited that my dad was doing well. He'd dance with me at my wedding (amid protest, cuz that wasn't his thing.) But he'd be there. Then, almost 6 months to the day, he had a stroke and didn't make it.

 

So, again, I don't want to be morbid, but I want to leave something for my kids. My own words, to tell them the things they need to know- how much I love them, how to know that person is "the one," how to parent a child, how important school is... When parents find out that they have a terminal illness, they create cards for their kids' birthdays, graduation, wedding days.. every milestone they will miss. Well, I suck at cards. I suck at pen and paper writing in general. Even before we had a computer, I sucked at it. I always wanted a pen pal, but then I learned that you have to write letters and I was all like, "screw that."

 

But, my blog, I can handle that. Maybe at some point, I'll turn them into a book for each of my kids.

 

So, welcome to my new series- Letters to my Children

 

My Dearest Aly,

 

My world started the moment I heard your first cry. When you cried, I cried. I held you all night long that first night. It took your dad a little longer to see the magic in you, but that's okay- Moms are born with their babies; Dad have to be cultivated and grown, but you can look at the pictures and tell he's smitten with you.

You are my best friend. You make me laugh and smile more than anyone else. It melts my heart when I heard you calling, "Nommy! Nommy!" I adore the way you wrap your arms around me and gently pat the backs of my arms (much like I pat your back, but your arms aren't long enough yet!) You're awful tight with hugs and kisses, so I appreciate them extra.

If for some reason, you're reading this and I'm no long here, know that my last thought will be about you are your sibling/s, because my life started with you and it will end with you. My love for you will keep us together until the end of time.