Here’s how it started. Mary, my precious little girl, came out of her room and announced, “Today is homeschool day mommy, and we’re going to the movies since Dolphin Tale 2 has come out, so chop, chop! I don’t have all day! Call me out sick and let’s go!”
Who is this kid?
I remember when I was pregnant for the first time and hoping for a little girl who would sit and watch re-runs of Little House on The Prairie with me so I’d have someone to cry with.
And I had a son who liked to cut the hair off of Barbie dolls instead.
When I got pregnant with sons #2 and #3 I was just wishing for a little girl who would share my love of chocolate and pickles so we could snack together.
I ended up with two boys who hate anything unless the recipe calls for bacon.
With sons #4 and #5 I dreamed of a little girl who would sit still and play with dolls and have tea parties.
I had two more boys who thought shaking bottles of root beer and letting them explode on the vaulted ceiling was a good way to pass the time.
When I was pregnant for the seventh time I just asked God for a little girl. I wasn’t picky by then, nope…not at all. And because I wasn’t to particular, God blessed this family with a mini me. Times like 26.
And by the time she was four I was asking God why I couldn’t have had ten boys.