Anyone with young ones at home knows it can, at times, be like
living with instant play-back. Got a nugget of wisdom or lesson they need to
learn? Chances are they’ll throw it right back at you with an innocent face and
a big ZING.
Children tend to remember these life gems at the most
inconvenient times such as in front of the in-laws, the parish priest or when
I’m already teetering on the very edge of sanity - which these days is pretty much
any day of the week ending in Y.
“We don’t say that
word in our family, mama!”
“That’s not very loving to our family or to JESUS!”
“Dishes go in the sink RIGHT after we’re done eating.”
“Mama, is your shirt modest?”
I’ve been caught talking out of both sides of my month more
than once by a four-year-old girl with what I consider to be a super-human
memory. It wasn’t until the latest Rutchik family phrase was thrown back at me
that I actually saw the mirror being held up to my face. I’m usually too busy wanting
to stick a piece of tape over the family parrot/eldest daughter’s mouth to
bother looking in the mirror to correct physical or hypocritical aspects of my
reflection.
“We get what we get and we don’t complain, right mama?”
The phrase entered our parental play-book when we found
ourselves breaking up one too many fights over who gets to drink out of/play
with/wear what under the reasoning of it being one little girl or another’s favorite
color.
Not-so-secretly holding onto hope that baby number four
could be our first son; I had slapped down a $50 bill and marched myself into
an elective ultrasound room.
It took me all of three seconds to identify the sex of the
little one we’ve all grown to call “baby bubo.”
Girl.
All girl.
I’m surprised her eldest sister didn’t barge in the room and
reprimand her for her lack of modesty.
A good mom would lie and say that seeing the life within in
her wiggle around on the screen was an experience she’ll never forget or some
other sappy, lame and cheesy thing like that. But this mom already has three
girls waiting in an embarrassingly messy mini-van with their father. One’s
sippy cup of milk lay forgotten on the kitchen counter at home and another’s
shoes buried in the sand-box, left intentionally due to laziness on said mother’s
part.
I was disappointed. Not surprised, but disappointed.
“I hate to tell you
this, but its girl number four,” The technician said. “Sorry to break it to
you, that’s too bad.”
I abandoned my pity party and scowled at him.
“Hey, that’s my baby,” I said. “Don’t talk like that about
my daughter!”
With a scowl on my face and annoyed eyes I became little
girl number four’s mother.
I thought of the phrase I’d been barking at little lady
number four’s older sisters all week:
“We get what we get and we don’t complain!”
Our children aren’t the only ones who throw fits, whine and
complain about the stupidest things.
(shhh! We don’t say the word stupid in our house!).
Most of the time, we’re upset because we can’t have things
we don’t really even want or need and we defiantly shouldn’t care about.
So, I was wrong and I’m embarrassed. Big shocker, like that’s never happened before
around here. I don’t know what is best
for us – or even what I want. Yes, I shed a few tears that night as I let go of
my life-long dream of being a mom to boys.
Funny how dreams can change.
It hasn’t even been a week and I’m already excited that we don’t have to
buy anything, that our girls can all share rooms, and that I can give my children
the one thing I didn’t have and always longed for – sisters.
Most of all, I’m giddy that we will continue to be “that
family with all the girls.”
It’s special.
It’s odd.
It’s so very us.
"We get what we get and we don’t complain.”
We’ve having a FOURTH baby girl!
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| There's always room for one more in our family! |
