September 9, 2013 by Heather
In my younger days (heh), I always imagined myself having daughters. Maybe because I am quite girlish myself, I don’t know. But for whatever reason I just figured when I had a baby it would be a girl. I know girl stuff, I like girl stuff, so in my head I was made to mother girls.
But not playing cars and trucks every morning? Complete with grunts and growls and vroom vrooms? I can’t even imagine that world.
I was made to mother this boy. He looks just like his handsome daddy from head to toe, all except for one thing – those eyes. Those “dark pools” as a sweet old lady once called them, those eyes are mine. He drives me crazy and there are days when I desperately need to not be needed for even just ten minutes, but my goodness.
Thank You Jesus for that boy and his dark pools.
Also, Jesus, thank you for baby-sized khaki pants. They kill me. Kill. Me.
And that’s not to say that someday I won’t have that daughter I dreamed of back in the day (four of them, if I remember my 14-year-old dreams correctly). You certainly never know what can happen. Of course before that does happen – if it happens (no, Mom, not pregnant) – I need to buy stock in big girl panties so I can double up on them everyday.
I need to sign off of here before I start freaking out about things that aren’t even happening yet. Oh gracious.