I was quite nervous this morning. It was our Ultrasound. First of all, I wanted a girl, secondly, I've had a birth defect child before, and that makes a clean ultrasound seem like something I may not get again.
Well, the upper lip was very much intact, and so was everything else on our very photogenic child. I tried to stick one of her close-ups on here, but the ultrasound was in some weird format this blog couldn't read. So instead, Grape sends pink daisies to you all.
We were so excited to hear that we get to have another girl that we stopped by a floral shop on the way home and picked up Leslie's first flowers--the note read, "To Leslie, love, your sister." Then Mark delivered them to her at her school. He was surprised I wanted her to get the news at school. "Don't you want to be there when she finds out?" I told him no way did I want to bawl in front of her whole class, and this way is sweeter and she'll remember it for the rest of her life, anyway. She's been waiting almost eight years for a sister.
Maybe she would have been okay with the other kind of news, though. Last night, trying to prepare her a little, I said, "Leslie, tomorrow is either going to be a really really good day or a just so-so day. (I didn't want to say "if we have a boy" out loud and jinx myself...) If it's just a so-so kind of day, I'll make you a big pot of ham and potato chowder for dinner to help you feel better." She jumped up and down and seemed quite content with that possible trade-off, so I think she would have coped just fine. At this point Mark yelled in the background, "And if it's a girl, we're having broccoli!!" I guess that incident sounds a little Jacob and Esau, doesn't it? Oh well. I think she trusted all along that she was going to get a sister. Tonight I couldn't think of anything else I wanted to make, so she still got her bowl of pottage and, of course, we had to serve it with broccoli to keep Mark an honest man.
Leslie is really growing up fast, so I'm glad she's getting this sister soon. She's been such an easy child that when she does have her little spats with me I'm generally surprised. It's such a contradiction that she acts so grown up most of the time and then the seven year old slips in. Last night I could have sworn that my pregnant hormones were rubbing off on her when she threw a crying fit because one of the eyes on a caterpillar she had drawn in colored pencil was bigger than the other one and she didn't want to have to erase it and "ruin it". I sent her to room to cool off and just laughed. I'll have to keep the picture and show it to her when she throws a fit over something nonsensical as a teenager.
She has become a master at talking our ears off as soon as she gets home from school, and it cracks me up because when she gets really going a blue streak. She is so full of the seven year old energy as well that she is usually bouncing or doing somersaults on the couch before she gets done "summarizing" (there's a word we need to teach her!) the game she and her friends played at recess. It is so strange to contrast this pictures of the twirly, swirly girl with some of the talks she has been wanting to have lately. Let's see. Two weeks ago one of her take-home books explained the big bang theory, of all things. She came to me after the first page and said, "Mom, this doesn't make any sense, this part about how there was no such thing as time or space." Smart girl. So we talked about how time has always existed, and so has Heavenly Father and our spirits, but sometimes it is just measured differently. Then we talked about how scientists don't understand everything and sometimes the things they think they know are actually not true, but also that we know that the Lord uses wonderful knowledge--even science-- to accomplish his miracles, it's just sometimes the kind we don't know about yet. Somehow I thought we might have that OTHER talk before this one. She also has been interested in the election and last week wanted to know what I don't like about democrats. Hmm. I have a political science minor but they didn't really teach us how to explain that stuff to smart little seven year olds. Yes, the word abortion came up--a new one for her--and she was sufficiently horrified (especially since her mama is pregnant).
Then Sunday she asked me how come so many parents die when they have new babies. "Huh?" was my response. "You know. How come so many people have to adopt new babies and not older kids? Isn't it because the babies' parents both died as soon as it was born? That seems weird." Oh. So then we had the unwed mothers talk. At least now she isn't worried that Mark and I have mortality issues come March.