Sometime in the 80s, in the middle of Rome and inside a crowded gelateria, I picked straws to determine the gender of my future children. It happened like this.
Rome in August is blisteringly hot and after a day on foot, we were ready for something cool. My dad ordered a lemon gelato. My mom, perhaps a pistachio. I am sure my brothers and I ordered something American and we all ordered something to drink. We collected the necessities–napkins, spoons, straws–while we waited. The straws, all pink or blue, sat wrapped in a glass dispenser on top of the refrigerated display case. I reached up for the first one and closed my eyes.
Pink or blue, this will tell me if my first child will be a boy or a girl. I pulled a blue straw. I closed my eyes and reached for a second straw.
Pink or blue, this will tell me if my second child will be a boy or a girl. I pulled a second blue straw. I closed my eyes and reached for a third straw.
Pink or blue, this will tell me if my third child will be a boy or a girl. I can’t remember what I pulled and since I only have two children, I suppose it’s irrelevant.
I was glad to pull two blue straws; I wanted sons. Five, ten, fifteen years later–that desire never wavered. I wanted three sons, in fact. Not that I have anything against girls. (Convenient since I am one.) It was just a preference I have always had and I used to think it was because I would always lack the self knowledge and maturity to mother daughters. Raising a daughter goes beyond picking out the perfect hair bow, and I never felt up to the task.
Now I know raising a son is equally hard. That’s what is so funny about wanting this gender over that one. There isn’t one that is easier. It is as difficult to raise sons as it is to raise daughters. Both require the best of your abilities. Both require you to be mentally sound and physically present. Both make you glow from the inside out and both can tamp out the same light with a dark and foreboding sense you are doing everything wrong. Both, in the end, are worth it.
I didn’t temp fate with straws in Rome because I knew I couldn’t raise daughters. Maybe, instead, I had a sixth sense I would one day find myself surrounded by adorable nieces.
What a cutie-patootie!
I’m totally fickle. When I was little, surrounded by ornery little boys, I wanted girls. When I grew into an adult, I realized I may not be equipped to deal with ridiculous teenage girls, so boys it was. Now that I’m getting dangerously close to miracle terratory in regard to kids, I’m pretty sure either one would warm the cockles of my heart. :)
I hope you get your miracle, Amy. :)
You know, I KNEW deep inside I would have little girls. Two of them. There was no doubt. Girls were all I knew…my sister and I were it.
Until I met my boyfriend/fiance/husband, who wanted at least one boy. I worked hard to alter my outward desires, although I still knew, deep down, we’d be having girls.
We have, of course, two boys. And I am so glad.
That was awesome.
Well…one girl so far…lol…thanks for the great pictures! melts my heart to see her chunks and adorable face! I could stare at pics of her all day! woke up today by her singing “Geeko, bu, papa, iky.” We just laid in bed and listened to her…nice to wake up to. :-)
Is this Gabby?! So cute!