why you do what you do

The moment I heard the words "it's a girl!!" on the ultrasound table...I invisioned a quiet, sweet little girl that barely spoke above a whisper, sitting quietly in the corner, playing with dolls. I dreamt of tea parties, dress up, reading books, rocking endlessly in the rocking chair as a soft breeze rustled the bedroom curtains... I thought I was home free and that life was about to get really easy.....WRONG!!!



I'm noticing that I refer to Livia as "buddy" and "goofball." Buddy? Goofball? For a girl?? This doesn't seem right. It should be princess and babydoll and love button and sweet cheeks. But as I lay on the floor getting mowed down by a matchbox car-weilding torpedo, the endearment "princess" doesn't come to mind.



In the sea of colorful plastic toys that decorate our house, Livia finds pleasure in the following:
Banging on the washing machine.
Playing in the toliet.
Taking out the dishwashing detergent. 355 times a day.
Sucking on the remotes.
Taking off the vents.
Ripping up paper towels. Actually we encourage this. It keeps her occupied.
Listening to the sound her fingernails make on the window screens.
Chewing on the knobs on my computer desk. While standing. Not a great look, I must say.
Using our kitchen trash can as a walker.
Eating her brothers' shoes. Literally. Eating them.
Banging her red hammer. On everything.
Taking my memory stick out of the computer and sucking on it. OK, to be fair, she only did that once.
Taking the dirty socks out of the sock box, one by one. And there's 3 guys in the house, don't forget. NASTY!
Picking the lock on our baby gate. Yep, that's totally true. Figured that one out at 10 months.



Pretty funny to see her sweet bedroom, a lovely whispery pink, Pottery Barn everything, including the chandelier. Butterfly sheers and pink silk curtains on the windows. Pretty funny as you hear pacifiers flying across the room, banging into the walls. That is my cue to come get her. That is, if I missed the first cue: shaking the front of the crib as though she had a double espresso in her formula. Shaking it loud enough that I can hear it even when the monitor is off and I'm downstairs. So excited to see me coming, bouncing up and down in her crib, bright eyes and a huge grin peeking out from behind the paci. Girls aren't supposed to bounce. They're supposed to be dainty, demure, graceful. They are supposed to wait patiently for you to happen by.



Does this give you a visual? She is rough, tough and tenacious. And the rules don't apply. You can put a bow in her hair, and dress her in a tutu, and that doesn't change the facts.



I'm not really girly myself, so I can deal. But it would really thrill my heart if she didn't look like a boy in a dress.