It's a boy!

The 'ole disclaimer: I've written this post at least a dozen times in my head, but I never could work it out. And with my brother's birthday this week, it finally seems like good timing. It's definitely out of sequence, but well, I had to say it.

"Can you tell me what that is?" Dr. Mankovsky excitedly questioned, and immediately I knew the little person swimming around inside of me was a boy - our Charlie. Honestly, I was afraid to say it aloud because I didn't really know what the hell he was pointing at - totally having a Rachel (from Friends) moment - so John said it and Mankovsky confirmed.

My entire pregnancy leading up to that moment I, and almost everyone around me, knew I was having a little girl - Emma. I did every old wive's tale of a test we could find - the necklace test, the hair test, some weird questionnaire we found online, and last, but certainly not least, peeing in Draino (don't ask). Everything came up girl. Everything. And I was thrilled. I know girls. My very favorite girl, my neice Madi, was born when I was a junior in high school, and I was so excited about having a little one of my own. So when we learned that big boy Charlie was actually the one jumping around in there, I was in a bit of shock. How was I going to raise a boy? And then it hit me, Charlie could someday be a big brother! And I know the magic of a big brother.

When I realized that, God-willing, Charlie could someday be someone's big brother it's like everything was right in the universe. Of course our sweet Charlie came first. I'm the person I am today because of my big brother. How do I know that when you get SO hungry you burp? Kevin convinced me to go get him food numerous times with this fun fact. How do I know the difference between my radiator and my engine? Kevin gave me a quick lesson after I burned my engine up by filling it with water. How do I know it's better to put my money in the bank than try to hide it around my room? Kevin repeatedly stole my babysitting money. How do I know that it's okay to sing your ass of and dance however the rhythm moves you? Kevin. How do I know that I shouldn't drink too much? Kevin got me wasted when I was in 8th grade, and it sucked. How did I learn how to laugh my way out of frustrations? Kevin talked and laughed me out of too many woeful situations. How do I know boys should come to the door when they pick you up rather than honking in front of the house? Kevin antagonized my boyfriends. How do I know that when you really love and enjoy someone's company it's okay to just sit quietly? Kevin. And how do I know that David Allan Coe is amazing and it's freaking hilarious to wrestle while you listen to Cat Steven's Peace Train? You guessed it...Kevin.

So even though it's still daunting to think that I'm raising a little man, I feel confident in who I want Charlie to become, and I know that if Charlie is even partially as kind, smart, funny, and loyal as Kevin, John and I should count our blessings. And surely, when we have more children it gives me so much comfort to know that they'll have a big brother to teach them, protect them, and make them laugh.

Happy birthday, fool. I love you.