A whole girly world of girly things was opened up to me yesterday when we learned THREE’s gender. I literally cannot stop grinning. I will calm down … eventually. But you see, I am a girly girl, and I have been living with three penises and smelling farts and dealing with things like ONE tasting his own pee to see what would happen.

All three of them (Husband, ONE, and TWO) tune me out the way only menfolk can. It seems to begin in infancy, the ability to tune out a woman’s voice at will. All three of them become engrossed in some activity or another, and seem not to hear when I say things like “Lunch is ready!” or, “Wash your hands!” or, “Put your penis back in your pants!” or, “DO NOT PUT YOUR FINGER IN YOUR BROTHER’S BEHIND.”

I’m having a girl! I can paint her nails! Put her in tutus! Way overdress her for every occasion!

And yes, I am completely aware that our little girl will bring us new and very different challenges. I hope she isn’t bipolar. Or mean. Or unable to grow hair, because I am so excited about fixing a little girl’s hair.

What if I screw her up? What if I model unhealthy behaviors that she picks up on and it makes her crazy or slutty or both?! Being a mother is scary. The idea of mothering a girl scares the absolute shit out of me. I console myself by perusing the internet and finding things like this:

www.gymboree.com

Meet THREE. My daughter.

WE’RE HAVING A GIRL!

The ultrasound tech wasn’t able to get a clear picture of the baby, because she was super wiggly and appeared to be trying to shimmy up the walls of my uterus to escape the ultrasound waves. Despite the appearance of this not-very-good photo, she is perfectly developed with all of her limbs proportioned and her major organs fully in tact.

Husband and I were marveling at our newest child when she exclaimed “GIRL!” And I immediately burst into tears. When I looked over at Husband — he’s not going to like this very much, but this is what happens when you’re married to a woman who blogs for her sanity — he was teary-eyed too. 

This just means so much to both of us, having a girl. This is just what our little family needed to round it out and bring some balance in … at least until the raging hormones hit and she and I have synchronized menstrual cycles and ALL HELL BREAKS LOOSE … but we have awhile before we have to worry about that.

I had resigned myself to mothering only boys, although I had secretly hoped that this one was a girl. As we said good bye in the waiting room so he could head off to work after the ultrasound was over, I wrapped my arms around him and said, “Thank you for my daughter.”

People tell me there is something about having a girl that is so special. I imagine it must be the same as explaining to someone the unique experience of raising little boys, because they are special in their own way as well. And as excited and thrilled and absolutely beside myself as I am about having a little girl, nothing could ever replace or usurp the love I have for my sweet boys. Hopefully they will toughen her and tease her and keep her humble, otherwise the intense spoiling that is going to hit her from all sides of the family will make her, I’d imagine, quite a bratty princess. And clearly, we cannot have that.

ONE and TWO have broken me in like a work horse. They have paved the way for their little sister, both in the physical and mental sense. Having a little girl in the house will be good for everyone. Especially me, because I desperately want to be twinsies with my daughter and get matching hot pink cowboy boots Husband, who still has a lot to learn about the female mind.

Ever wonder to yourself what 18 weeks pregnant with your third child looks like?

No?

Oh. Well … I’m going to show you anyway.

I would say that during 99% of my waking hours, I am ferociously hungry, ferociously angry, or both.

Almost 1/3 of the way done!

I haven‘t had a ton of time to dwell on the fact that I’m gestating, mostly because the two children who are constantly in my face are constantly in my face. 

However, I have noticed a few things. First of all, although I am much busier this time around, I still make time to eat. Like a MAN. I have made a lot of effort to keep junk food out of the house and being a stay-at-home mom restricts my access to fast food, thankfully. But I am just SO HUNGRY. I literally eat a meal and two hours later I’m starving again. It’s gross. 

I’ve been craving oranges, orange juice, turkey bacon, various kinds of sandwiches, chili, LOTS of veggie meat, and chocolate-covered graham crackers. The other day I had orange juice and chili for “second breakfast,” and it was divine. The mere thought of eating a salad or a raw vegetable makes me queasy, which is unfortunate.

I’ve also noticed my skin looks a lot better with this pregnancy than it ever looked with my other two. I am, in fact, glowing. I appreciate that, because the rest of what is happening to me is not attractive in the least. 

The best part about having #3 is the general relaxation about the entire thing. It started when Husband and I decided it was fine if we had a third. Our conversation was short. Literally I think he said “I would be fine with it if we had a third baby.” Immediately followed by, “BUT THAT IS THE LAST ONE.” 

I feel more relaxed in general. I am going to have this baby naturally, just like I had TWO, and it will be fine. This time, I go into the weight gain, the birthing process, the whole thing, knowing we will all make it through to the other side and be even happier and crazier than we are already, because THREE will be in our lives.

And yet … I can’t help but to fear that this will be the baby to really, truly do me in. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Can my body really grow and birth another one?! I hope so, and if something should go awry with any of my parts, that is what modern medicine is for.

Yesterday, a mom at ONE’s preschool asked me how I was feeling. She went on to encourage me about how when she was pregnant with her third child she thought she would die from exhaustion, but three is a really good number. She said, “You can DO IT! It’s going to be GREAT once you aren’t pregnant anymore!” That was encouraging. 

Then … she told me about her urinary incontinence, which started after her third child was born. “You’ll never be able to make it to the bathroom again,” she said, before walking out the door. 

Later, I had an out-of-body experience where I overheard myself telling Husband how I simply refuse to be incontinent, and he just looked amused. But really, I do refuse. It’s simply mind over matter, and clearly I cannot allow myself to be incontinent if I am going to realize my dream of being a super hot mother of three who toodles around town in a very large, badly driven, gas-guzzler.