Christina is 5. She and I are the only girls in our family. When I was pregnant and I finally got that ultrasound to find out whether that tiny thing that was spending it’s days dancing inside of me was a little boy or a little girl I was SO excited to tell the kids the news. Scott was gone doing some training in Louisiana, I believe, so the kids were the first ones to find out. I rushed inside with my pictures from the doctors office and yelled “It’s a boy!!!!”. I was not prepared for the reaction I would get from Miss Christina. She cried. She cried a lot. “I wanted so bad to have a sister!” I really didn’t know what to say because all along I had wanted a boy. She was genuinely brokenhearted, and I REALLY was not. I imagined that I will probably feel like this again later in life sometime when Christina gets out of a relationship with a boy that I really didn’t like. I would be exuberant, but she will be so sad. I tried so hard to search for things that might make her happy. “This means you will never have to share your bedroom with anyone!” It made her cry even more. “I wanted to share my room with my little sister!” I said “This means you will never have to share any of the pink stuff! It’s all yours!” so she replied “I WANT to share my pink stuff with my little sister if pink makes her happy like it makes ME happy!” She has such a sweet heart. I finally resorted to “Well, your mother is pregnant right now, too! We’ll just hope she has a little girl.” I felt guilty resorting to this argument since I knew she would probably never live with her mother’s baby, and she would never have the opportunity to share a room with the baby, and that it would be rare for her to be able to give that baby anything pink to make her happy. However, this was the argument that worked… kind of. It made her happy. “HOLY SHOOT! My MOM is having a baby girl!” I quickly covered my tracks “Well, now. I didn’t say that she IS having a baby girl. I said that she MIGHT have a baby girl.” “HAHAHAHA! Oh, holy shoot. I might have a baby sister!” I love Christina. She has an extensive vocabulary and uses it very well, except for the fact that she can’t make the “k” or “g” sound and always replaces it with the “t” sound and the “sh” sound is really only an “s” sound, she speaks well. I’m going to go ahead and take responsibility for the fact that she calls poop “shit”. It’s my fault. I did it entirely on accident. She was forming her vocabulary when I first met her and I wasn’t careful with my words. In order to fix this problem Scott told her that a good thing to say instead of “the S word” is “shoot”. So, now her favorite exclamation is “Holy shoot!” and it’s not uncommon for her to go to the bathroom and yell “SOMEONE SHOOTED IN THE TOILET AND DIDN’T FLUSH IT!”

What’s the point of this post? I don’t really remember anymore.

OH YEAH! I remember. Now, Christina is hopelessly in love with her baby brother. She always asks to hold him. Whenever she sees me feeding him she begs to be the one feeding him. “I love the way his face looks when he’s eating!” She finally stopped begging to change his dirty diapers, but whenever she hears him cry it hurts her the same way it hurts me. Just this morning she ran to me with big tears streaming down her face “Sarah, I dropped Owen’s rattle 0n his face! I told him I was sorry, but he’s still mad at me!” She worries all the time about him. If he’s napping a little bit longer than his usual 20 minutes she asks me to go check on him. She has mountains of toys, but prefers to make Owen smile. He laughs with her more than he does with me or anyone else. She’s so beautiful, too.

I love Miss Christina.

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