Sugar and Spice and All That's Nice

So, what if I do have a girl?

Girls scare me a little.

I grew up with two brothers, in a neighborhood full of boys, I was a tom boy, my first best friend was a boy and... of course, my first child was a boy.

So, what if I do have a girl?

Hmm. I picture - a little girl, with biggg afro puffs and yellow ribbons, big brown eyes like her brother, a toothless smile, spinly little legs, knobby brown knees in a grass stained dress and scuffed shoes. I picture her - chasing her brother, wrapping her Daddy around her finger, eating pistachio ice cream, snuggling with me for girl's nights and playing make believe in her pink and purple room.

I see a frog princess. A little girl who can and will be anything she wants from rolled up jeans and holey t-shirts to pink princess dresses and frilly socks. From climbing trees to drinking tea.

So, what if I do have a girl?

I think I am kind of excited.

My mom bought me these ChildCraft Encyclopedias (the 1987 edition) when I was a kid. They were full of fairy tales, nursery rhymes and poems for kids. They also had interesting facts about animals and bugs - you know, things kids would be interested in. Anyway, they had this poem by Shel Silverstein called "Sick". It was my absolute favorite poem as a little girl - I used to know it by heart. Every time I am in a bookstore I always browse through the Shel Silverstein books hoping to find it. I am pretty sure I can locate a book with it on Amazon but I kind of like the old fashioned hunt of going through a bookstore or library. Isaiah already has about three or four Shel Silverstein books. He loves "The Giving Tree." Anyway, as I was imagining my little girl today - I decided to google the poem sick. One, because it reminds me a little of work - I practice disability law BUT, more significantly, if I do have a girl, I'd imagine she'd be mouthy, like her mama, and probably like it too.


Sick by Shel Silverstein

"I cannot go to school today,"
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
"I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more--that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my eyes are blue--
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is. . .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play!"