I got six hours of sleep last night and I got a babysitter today so I found myself sitting in the parking lot of Target grinning like a fool, giggling like a school girl.  I cannot believe I am sitting on the other side of a worry that has weighed me down for months.  My grin is 1/2 because the weight of the worry is lifted and 3/4 because we have a baby girl!

Hey.  Don’t correct me.  I am 1 AND 1/4 happy right now.

I was at Target buying tights.  Tights!  Whoddathunk I’d ever need baby girl tights?  

A few days before our trip to *maybe* get baby, I found myself sitting in a quiet place and the thought struck me … a girl!  A baby girl.  I never considered it.  Never dared dream of it.  I love my boys – the more boys, the rowdier, the boy-smellier, the star-wars-fannier, the better.  A girl has shifted my whole world off its axis.  It is so much better tilted.

This girl.  You wouldn’t believe her.  Right now, you wish you were me.  No kidding.  There never was a more good-natured, pleasant, content girl than this baby girl.

The other day, I stumbled onto an article called 10 ways you are adding 10 years to your look by applying your make-up wrong (or some such nonsense title).  And I’m glad to report I am not doing any of the things wrong.  Because I don’t really wear make-up.  In the world’s definition of high-maintenance, I am not even on the scale.  But this girl of mine?  She is even lower maintenance than I!  We are going to get along fine.

I keep pinching myself.  Baby girl is home.  And the happy is bursting out of my face.

Happy and I know it and my face is surely showing it.


My two-year-old took this picture. I found it on my phone sandwiched between 17 pictures of his forehead.



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