I grew up in a house of girls. There was me, my two sisters, my mom, and my poor dad. (Even the dog was a girl!) Estrogen ruled the roost. And it was comfortable for us ladies. By comparison, I remember my mom shuddering any time a neighborhood boy would enter the home.
"They touch everything!" she would hiss. "My silk wallpaper just absorbs oily little handprints. And they don't know how to treat antiques!" In truth, our house was not set up for young males. All our rambunctiousness had to take place out-of-doors or in the basement. We learned very early on not to enter the "no-no rooms," Mom's formal sitting parlor and the dining room. We had strict rules to obey when it came to the house and its upkeep. It just was what it was.
Fast forward some 20-plus years. While pregnant with Becca, I just KNEW she was a girl, despite our decision to be surprised upon delivery. I coveted swirls of pink and chocolate brown and fell in love with girly outfits. And I was right: Our life was soon overrun with princess gowns, fairies, dressy shoes, and bows.
This time around, I had no such certainty. However, we know FIVE sets of fraternal twins--all of which include one boy and one girl. It seemed like a nice balance, less competition, the best of both worlds. I think The Banker and I sort of assumed this was what I had rolling about in my quickly growing abdomen.
So when the sonogram showed one boy, we weren't surprised. However Baby B remained demurely hidden behind the umbilical cord, causing us to wait some two additional weeks to know for sure what we were having.
Yet when that umbilical cord moved, it did not hide a little girl. It hid another little boy. TWO BOYS. Oh boy, oh boy, indeed.
My friend texted me: "Welcome to the world of balls." This seems an understatement. I don't know boys. I wasn't raised with them and haven't a clue how to go about molding them into respectable young men. Everyone has told me the energy levels are higher. The common sense can be lower. Becca and I will be outnumbered. And oh, my antiques.