For the last time, I find myself on the eve of a gender discovery. Tomorrow's the big day, when we find out if this is Baby Girl Pedde #3, or Baby Boy Pedde #1. The sad part is, I am far more excited about the OB giving me an inhaler and some antibiotics for some serious bronchitis if not pneumonia than I am about finding out whether or not we'll be inundated with more pink! Such is the affliction of a 3rd child, I suppose... or else it just goes to show how sick I really am!
At least this kid gave some mighty kicks visible from the outside today, which I appreciate since that lets me know that despite my misery, he/she's doing just fine in there.
I ordered Turkey's special book today; poor thing is getting a used library edition since apparently the book is out of print. Oops. If this turns out to be a 3rd girl I'm not sure what book I'll get for her; most "special" books tend to be about moms and sons. We've not read every book in our new library's children's section, though, so maybe I'll come upon another good one.
But, I think I'm going to get a copy of The Runaway Bunny for all three kids. I don't remember ever hearing this story before we were given the Mechanic's childhood copy shortly after Ladybug was born. I don't think we owned it in my childhood home. The first time I read it, I was a tad disturbed. "I will become the wind and blow you to where I want you to go." Um... not my role as a parent. I felt the Mama Bunny was rather controlling, and at the time, I found any form of control revolting. But the more times I read that book, the more I understood... "if you run away, I will run after you, for you are my little bunny."
That's it. That's my parenting philosophy, plain and simple. Counseling, mental health, addiction, abuse... where they run, I will run after them. Whatever it takes. For they are my children. And that's what I want to get across to them. They will grow up, they will make their own choices, they will make mistakes. And I will love them. And I will be there. Whether or not I like their choices. Whether I approve of their career. Whether I approve of their spouse. Whether I approve of their child-rearing. Whatever the case may be... if we need professional help, we'll get it. That youtube video of the girl in the abortion clinic calling her mom? Heaven forbid my girls walk that path, but if they do... I want them to know that I will come for them. And cry with them. And love them through it. That there is nothing they can do or say to take away that love.
And I know I'm risking reaping a whirlwind by saying these things. Because life tends to take funny turns, and the problems of the parents tend to multiply in the children. And the things we say are challenged more than we'd ever dreamed. But I want it said. I want it recorded. So that on those days when they are driving me up the wall, when they dump half their antibiotics on the floor, smash goldfish into the carpet, and get me up 6 times a night, I'll remember. So that when they are teenagers, with attitudes and hormones and strange friends & horrible music, I'll remember. So that when they are "adults" and I don't believe it, and they're making choices and I'm thinking they're crazy, and they're telling me all the stuff I did wrong in raising them, I'll remember. I'll remember the love that started with that first positive test, the first glimpse of a flickering heart on an ultrasound, the first time I felt each of them move, the first time I heard them cry... a love that grows deeper as it grows more difficult, a love that grows more fierce as they challenge it.