We are having a baby girl. Though I’d always imagined myself having a houseful of boys, I knew God wouldn’t let me off that easy.
I don’t say that because I think daughters are more difficult or less desirable. I’m one myself, and I’m awesome! ;) No, I have been nervous about mothering a girl because I’m not sure I know how.
I’ve never been good about relating to girls. I much preferred fishing and watching football and talking cars. I’m guessing this is partly because I really struggled doing girly things… All the girls wore skirts for school chapel, but I couldn’t. I write and eat with my feet up on the table, you see. Not the best time to wear a skirt.
I couldn’t play volleyball with them and I couldn’t curl my hair. I decided I never wanted to do those things anyway. Much easier to
turn my nose up and pretend I didn’t want these things that were so out of my reach. Much easier than the grieving I’ve been working through as an adult.
So, girls have never been my forte. I wonder how well I’ll be able to do her hair or help her with her tights and buckle shoes. I wonder if I can grow enough to keep myself from passing on my disdain for all things feminine. I want her to be happy with who she is and what God’s given her.
So I’m happy with what He’s given me. A girl. A girl who will give me the opportunity to grow. A girl who I can take for pedicures and shopping for Easter dresses, and hey, if she can enjoy(endure?) the Chiefs game with me on Sundays, we’ll have it made.
This post was a Saturday Sprint.