This entry is the last in my series of blasts from the pasts. My next post will officially be back in real time!
So, I think the baby is a girl. I don't know why. I don't even necessarily even want a girl more than a boy. In fact, it's no secret that historically my favorite clients have been little boys. But the truth remains that I am over 100% confident that we are indeed having a girl.
Gerard also thinks we are having a girl, though not to the same degree of confidence. He had a talk with me last night and said I need to start considering the possibility that we might actually have a boy. I tried to explain again that I wouldn't be upset or disappointed if we were having a boy, I'd just be shocked. It would be as if someone told me my heritage is actually Australian. I don't have any positive or negative correlations to my nationality or this new assumed nationality. It would just be really shocking and confusing.
This didn't appease Gerard, so I'm trying to fill my girl-consumed mind of some positive associations of having a little boy, so that in ten weeks if we find out it is true, I'll have something to go on. I say, as long as he looks like my little curly, tow-headed French boy I see for therapy I'll be A-ok. Or like the youngest Jamal in Slumdog Millionaire. Or, and perhaps more realistically, if he looks like Will Smith's little boy. With some big ol' hair. Then I'll be happy.*
*Disclaimer: I will actually be happy no matter what our little boy or girl looks like. Thanks.
Gerard also thinks we are having a girl, though not to the same degree of confidence. He had a talk with me last night and said I need to start considering the possibility that we might actually have a boy. I tried to explain again that I wouldn't be upset or disappointed if we were having a boy, I'd just be shocked. It would be as if someone told me my heritage is actually Australian. I don't have any positive or negative correlations to my nationality or this new assumed nationality. It would just be really shocking and confusing.
This didn't appease Gerard, so I'm trying to fill my girl-consumed mind of some positive associations of having a little boy, so that in ten weeks if we find out it is true, I'll have something to go on. I say, as long as he looks like my little curly, tow-headed French boy I see for therapy I'll be A-ok. Or like the youngest Jamal in Slumdog Millionaire. Or, and perhaps more realistically, if he looks like Will Smith's little boy. With some big ol' hair. Then I'll be happy.*
*Disclaimer: I will actually be happy no matter what our little boy or girl looks like. Thanks.
1 comment:
I love the youngest Jamal! He is so cute - especially when he meets the movie star!
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