Remember a few weeks ago I was so excited that my doctor decided to let me go downstairs once a day? Well, last night I decided going downstairs ain't all what it's cracked up to be.
I'm not sure if I'm getting too wide for my couch or what, but I'm way too uncomfortable down there to spend any amount of time downstairs. Did you ever see those shows on The Discovery Channel about the 1000 lb woman? The one who has to have a crane to get her out of her bed? That's me every night. I literally have to start rocking back and forth to get up enough steam to get out of the couch. Once I'm out, it takes about 5 solid minutes to get my balance and to take the few steps back upstairs. Plus there's a whole bunch of heavy breathing going on to that makes this process both a visual and audio spectacular. So, that's it. I'm done going downstairs for a while --- unless I have a large group of visitors coming at once (which will probably be tomorrow night - my sister, brother in law and nieces are coming over for pizza).
One of our mattresses arrived today. Mark's mom and dad bought us one from Babies R Us and a friend from work is giving us one his sons' had used. Which brought up a question -- which one of the babies gets the new one and which one gets the used? I wanted to flip a coin --- I thought that would be the only fair way, but Mark insisted the girl get the new one. He said the boy needs to learn to be tough. First, I'm sure we won't even be able to tell the difference between the new and the used mattress. Second, I think Mark thinks that just because we're having a boy, he's going to come out ready to suit up for the Denver Broncos. Third, and what worries me the most, are we going to raise a princess?
Now, contrary to what many of my co-workers may think (those that affectionately - I hope - termed me "princess" early in my career at the agency), I don't believe that little girls should grow up thinking they're princesses. They just turn into women who think they're princesses and there's nothing worse than a 30-year old woman who pouts to get her way with her boyfriend, husband or - worse yet - her daddy. I'd rather have a daughter who knows how to work hard and fight for what she wants and doesn't think the world should be handed to her on a silver platter just for the simple fact that she's a girl.
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3 comments:
I am thoroughly enjoying your blog. Well written and funny!
Princess? You can fight it all you want, but they are what they are. I'm raising a princess, now, but I'm also teaching her how to keep her left up while throwing a straight right.
It's not that I want her to learn that pouting is winning, because I hate that as much or more than the next person. In my mind, I want my "princess" to be respected, and to learn that expecting men to treat her well is not too lofty a goal...and that when they don't she can still respect herself and take care of herself.
Love your blog!
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