I wrote this in November when we found out you were having another baby girl. Forgot to publish. This is for you, Rocky & Jovan!
The odds of having one child of either gender are nearly, but not exactly, 1 in 2. US birth statistics reveal the odds are slightly in favor of a baby’s being male: roughly 105 boys are born for every 100 girls. So the odds a newborn is male are 1 in 1.95 (51%), while the odds a newborn is female are slightly lower, 1 in 2.05. This means that, when it comes to a woman’s first children, streaks of daughters are slightly rarer than those of boys.
The odds a woman’s first 5 children will be female are only slightly lower than the odds a baby will be part of the birth of twins (1 in 31.12). Multiple births, especially those of higher order (triplets and beyond), are much rarer than streaks. SOURCE
So ~ another baby girl, against all odds!
Dear Jovan and Rocky~
You are having another girl! Yes, Averi had been planning for “a little Rocky” and it would sure be fun for me to see another “little Rocky” unleashed on the world, but from afar so I could laugh and enjoy his antics more (as opposed to running red-faced after him at 90-miles-per-hour and trying to keep his little highness from escaping safety 268 times a day). Oh, my Rocky, in retrospect, you were a hilarious handful, but during the days of your short little legs and gigantic mullet, oh my, I was pooped, pretty much all the time. Haha.
But before we got you, my darling boy, in 1984 (we dared not even hope), we were the parents of three, beautiful daughters. Three girls with 4 dozen dresses apiece. Three girls with tangles and curls and mountains of stuffed animals and lacy anklets and Barbie dolls and lilting voices and fuzzy slippers and joyous giggles.
And three is the big deal, you know. I have always told you: three is when you know you’ve got this thing. Or else you lose total control forever, but one day they all grow up and it is all fine, anyway. But three kids is the parental “tipping point,” in my humble opinion.
You see, when you have one child, there is balance: both parents are there to share the load and care for the little sweetie-pie. If one parent is sick, the other kicks in one-on-one. It is all very nice and manageable.
Then you have a second baby. Still – balanced. Because there is one adult per child. It all works out.
But three. Three is the one that will upset the proverbial fruit basket. Because if one parent is changing baby and another parent is cleaning up the child who is potty-training and just fell into the stool ~ who {???} will tend to the child who just ran out the door and down the street in nothing but a toddler-sized pair of cowboy boots and a nerf-gun in his hands? Who, I ask? That 1.5 children per parent thing does not work like it seems it should.
{You are SO going to be outnumbered now}
So, that you have had the courage to venture into parenting three puts you among the most courageous parents on the planet. Both of your mothers did it (yay, for Jo and me!), so you come from a land of “possible.” :)
I always tell everyone that once you have three children, you can add any amount and it no longer throws you. Have 3, or have 12*. It just doesn’t matter anymore. This is because you either become extraordinarily able to handle absolutely anything and everything child-rearing-and-raising brings with it and can no longer be conquered, nor intimidated by them, no matter the size of their miniature army-ness, or you sort of lose your marbles and are blissfully unaware that you have lost control. Either way, win-win. So have 5 or 7* or however many you want after you have crossed the three-line, you can do it!
*I am mostly kidding about having 7…or 12 ;)
But here you are, Rock-star and Jovanie: three babies. Three baby GIRLS! Three beautiful little daughters in a row. Just like your mom did, Jovan. Just like I did before the Rockster and the Storms came along.
Here is what is going to happen. With three of the cutest little girls on the planet. Don’t ask me how I know:
They will never all sleep at the same time. If you nap when the baby naps, be prepared for the ornery things the older 2 will be doing while you blissfully rest [Vick’s Vapo-Rub, baby powder, needles and a water-bed….the memories]. It will take 3.76 hours to clean up. But the sleep will have made it worth it.
They will stay up too late almost every single night giggling and teasing each other and sharing their hearts and making each other cry and talking about what they will be when they grow up.
They will all want to cuddle with you at once. Or none of them will.
You will go through 862 bottles of hair detangler before they reach 18. Let’s not even talk shampoo and conditioner, and other beauty supplies. And, by the way, your skills at fancy French braiding will become world-renowned.
It is going to take 47 minutes just to get everyone properly strapped into their car seats. At which time one of them will need to go to the bathroom before you can leave. Really – total emergency.
You can weave red ribbons into long braids in their hair for Christmas and have them each hold a large mic and sing “Come on Ring those Bells” at church because the whole congregation will find your little girls as wondrous and adorable as you find them. Absolutely.
While you are nursing the baby, watch out for what those other 2 are up to. Don’t think they are not going to scheme, for the minute you get situated nursing is a great time to do or touch [whatever it is they have been forbidden to do or touch]. True story.
I hate to tell you that I left Tredessa in her little seat in a shopping cart 3 aisles over at the local department store and would not have thought another thing about it until I heard saleswomen oohing and aahing over her. She was a week old and dad was always the “cart driver.” But with 3 kids, he had one walking, and holding on, the other in the cart and now…the big, yellow newborn seat needed a space in an additional cart and I … left her for a few minutes. Yes. It happened. Keeping count of 3 kids is much, much harder. Much harder. I may have had to use my fingers.
You’re going to have 876 pink socks, but not the same-matching pink socks. They will each be slightly different and varying shades of pink. Oh yes, at one time there would have been a match for each, but where those go, no one knows. Mysterious.
And under every couch cushion will be dozens and dozens and dozens of hair ties and bobby pins. Count on that!
And of the 368 dolls they collectively own, only about 2 will actually be properly clothed at any given time.
You will see more shoes and small purses and pastel-jackets in your entry hall than in all of Macy’s~ all of Macy’s in the United States, actually.
You will have a house with three little girls. It will be sugar and spice and every-oh-so-nice-thing and pretty loud and high and songs will peal out and cries of distress over small things, too. They’ll all want to be as beautiful as their mama and they ‘ll need their daddy to affirm they are. Be the man of their dreams, Bo-Bear.
I had three daughters first, so I can tell you, it will be sweet. Not every second, but over the long haul of life, you will be blessed by more delicious-warm-cuddly-wondrous-sweetness than any of us deserves.
You have been chosen, entrusted by God, with these three, these little pretties. And they will be the strong, bold, courageous generation of women who speak and sing out the faithfulness of the Lord to generations you and I won’t ever even see. You are reaching into eternity x 3. In pink.
You got this!
Love,
mom
