Thursday, April 30, 2009


I was linked to this shitpile of an article from Shakespeare's Sister. They used the term "shitpile and I think they're right. This is whence it's earned:

Even before I had sons, I worried about having a daughter. I could handle boys, with their cut-and-dried needs, but girls were so much more complicated. Girls have elaborate hairstyling requirements. They whine and mope, manipulate and triangulate.

Now, granted, I'm the mother of a girl. But I know a whole bunch of parents of boys and it certainly doesn't feel like their jobs are any easier than mine. Kids are hard. And, sheesh, all kids whine and mope and manipulate. I believe what we got going on in that there pull quote is a fair amount of misogynistic projection.

But, it did make me think about Laney. When we decided to adopt, I told Don I wanted a girl. Don didn't care either way and was fine with checking the "girl" box on the adoption form.

I battled guilt. It felt like we were getting this enormous gift from Russia and I shouldn't be picky in any way, shape or form about what we were getting.

I talk a good game about how I decided it was OK to request a girl since there was so little we could control about the child who'd become ours. But, really, in my heart of heart, I just wanted a daughter.

And if I couldn't get pregnant, I could get this. I could get my daughter.

And I have her. And regret nothing. Laney is (to steal from a Shaker comment) made of awesome.

If we'd had the finances to do it again, we'd have been non-specific about gender. And, if we'd gone to Russia again, this would probably have meant a boy. I'd have liked a boy too. I love to cuddle my nephew (who is a big old bucket of cute, to be fair), and when I do I think how much I'd like to be the mother of a son too.

But, you know, this is what we have. And I wouldn't trade a drop of Laney for all the stars in the skies.

- an incoherent blogpost, my friends, but I've had a lot of wine. I blame the triple overtime Bulls game - Go Bulls!