My mother is the epitome of feminine. She loves dresses with a matching hat, switches purses weekly, and appreciates a good diamond. She's always on the hunt for cute shoes, as well as the perfect haircut. She loves to sing and always wanted to be a dancer. She never played sports, and sprains her ankle at the thought of running, but she's a great cook, an even better baker and keeps a spotless house.
Unfortunately for my girlie-girl mom, out of three kids, she only got one daughter ... me, and I was a total tomboy. When I was real little, when she still had some control, she dressed me in pretty, frilly dresses with little patent leather shoes and matching purses. She put bows and ribbons in my long, curly hair and sometimes our dresses even matched.
She had such high hopes for me, too. She wanted me to be a cheerleader or a majorette, and she once told me it was her dream that I would become a professional ice skater. (Do professional ice skaters hail from western Nebraska? I can't think of any.) Anyway, she wanted me to become something "girlie." Miss America or the Homecoming Queen, just a girlie-girl.
Well, that didn't happen. The true "me" emerged about 5 years old. I don't know if it was the influence of Nebraska football that my family watched religiously, or a gene that just skipped a generation, but I went from mommy's little girl, to mommy's little girl who kept getting mistaken for a little boy.
I got my hair cut short and would not been seen wearing anything but T-shirts and football jerseys. I only wore boys' tennis shoes and football, baseball and kickball were my favorite sports. I climbed the highest trees, went fishing with dad, and had matchbox car races in the afternoons. I pretended my bike was a red corvette and the Evil Knieval motorcycle was my favorite toy.
Mom did sign me up for baton twirling lessons, which lasted maybe a month, and she encouraged me to try cheerleading and dance, but to no avail. I played softball before I was even old enough, was the best girl kickball player on the playground, and at recess, was the quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys playing football with the boys. I checked out sports books during library hour and collected as many football cards as I could. It was MY dream to become a quarterback in NFL when I grew up. Needless to say, a complete tomboy!
Obviously, I grew out of my tomboy stage to some extent and turned out to be an actual girl. I still played sports, but grew my hair out and include dresses, jewelry, and even purses to my wardrobe. Eventually, I managed to land an amazing husband and when I got pregnant the first time, I thought for sure it would be a boy. I always wanted all boys, maybe even twin boys. I had names picked out and imagined what they'd become. There was no way I could handle girls, I knew nothing about doing hair or having nice nails. Surely, God would not give me a girl.
It's a GIRL! My firstborn was a girl, when all nine months we were sure it was a boy. But, of course, I feel in love with her instantly and felt SO blessed to have such a beautiful baby daughter. I actually loved buying everything pink and dressing her like a little dolly. I soaked it up and was one proud mama! I figured that God thought I needed a girl, for my mom's sake, at the very least. Besides, I was the only girl with two younger brothers in my family. I would probably just follow the same pattern.
Then, a year and a half later, pregnant with my second child, I was for certain that this time it was a boy. I was sick as a dog and I wasn't with the first. I carried different, felt different and ate different. My husband and I were convinced it was a boy, and we decided to find out early this time. While the ultrasound tech was circling around my belly, my eyes eagerly scanned the black and white mass on the monitor, hoping to catch a glimpse of something unique, something different from my daughter's ultrasound. I was almost positive I saw a shape that indicated "boy" but it must have been intestines or an elbow or something because before I knew it, the tech said, "It's a GIRL!"
Wow! I knew I could possibly handle one girl, but two?? Oh man, God must really think this is funny, giving a tomboy like me, two sweet little girls. Oh well, I was happy that my oldest would now have a little sister to play with, since I kind of always wished I had a sister. Plus, I wouldn't have to buy all new clothes and baby things, and the best part was, I was expecting another perfectly healthy baby, who I couldn't wait to meet!
Having two girls made me prouder than I would have imagined. Maybe God knew what he was doing after all. I never realized how much I would enjoy buying matching dresses and frilly outfits. I managed to figure out hair bows and barrettes, and I found I actually took pleasure in buying princess toys and dress up clothes. My sweet girls' eyes lit up at the sight of frill and sparkles, and that was enough for me.
As years passed, we thought we'd only be blessed with two kids and we'd come to terms with that. However, life's always full of surprises and it seemed our "surprise" was on its way. This was it, the boy I "thought" I always wanted. Maybe God was pleased at how I'd done so far, and thought maybe I was ready to try raising a boy.
So there I lay again, in the doctor's office, intensely examining the screen while the ultrasound tech did her fancy swirls and curls on my belly. My hubby and I were pretty familiar with girls ultrasound scans by now, so we knew where to look and what to look for. Before the tech could even ask if we wanted to know, my husband just shook his head and laughed. Sure enough, there SHE was! Girl No. 3.
Who ever said God didn't have a sense of humor is wrong, giving a former tomboy three daughters, "girlie girl" daughters to boot. Now my world is all about everything pink and it's filled with Barbies, bracelets and bows. My house overflows with dollhouses and castles, and my vacuum is loaded with polly pocket shoes. I go to dance recitals, know all the Disney princesses, and have mediated many a cat fight between screaming girls.
I don't know the last thing about Pokemon, Power Rangers, or Super Mario Brothers, and I couldn't tell you the difference between a kickflip and a tailside. I no longer know all the professional football players' names, but I could list every Disney teen queen on TV.
I wouldn't trade it for anything, though, and I love my girls more than life itself, so I guess God knew what he was doing, and I'm sure it made him chuckle!