Ruffles, Frills and Pink, OH MY!

 Since entering the magical world of Mommyhood, I have discovered a few things about myself:

• No matter how tired or sleep deprived I am, the sound of my baby's soft rhythmic sleep-breathing on my shoulder can always makes me bliss out.
• I can breastfeed, and facebook-stalk simultaneously.
• I can watch "Winnie the Pooh" five times in a row, and remain sane
• I  still get excited each morning, at the prospect of dressing my children

  When I discovered I was pregnant with my first child I was, needless to say ecstatic. We began planning and getting excited about having a little genetic mash-up of the two of us. We found out we were having a little boy and became even more excited. At my baby shower I received a plethora of awesome baby boy goodies, including some super cute little boy clothes. I hadn't realized before I found out I was having a boy that it was possible to find cute baby boy clothes. However, you were ultimately limited to pants and shorts. Even in those days my eyes would wander longingly towards the little girl's sections of clothing stores. I could see from a distance the pink skirts, and eyelet laces, and a sea of frills and ruffles that was just out of reach. I would distract myself with funny, little cutenesses of rough, and tumble overalls, and onesies that declared "I'm mommy's little man".  

     However last year when we discovered we were expecting again (and when I say 'we' I of course mean myself, although I guess it could be said that Robert was "expecting" to take orders from his pregnant wife) I carefully did not allow myself to 'hope' for one gender over another. "how would it feel," I asked myself "to find out that you were not what your parents wanted you to be?" When someone would ask the inevitable question:  "so do you want it to be a boy or a girl?" I would smile and answer, "yes." and watch the blank looks on their faces as I turned around and finished steaming the milk for a latte (did I mention that I worked at a coffee shop, in a bookstore?) 

     Finally the day came that we were to discover the gender of our baby! I lay there on the table with warm goo on my belly and watched as the doctor tried to decipher the gender of my overly-modest fetus.  We waited with baited breath to finally learn that IT was a SHE!!!  I could hardly contain my delight. That elusive section of the store that was filled with pink and ruffles was opening up to me! 

The closer I got to my due date the more I wandered that department, often with my reluctant and bored-out-of-his-mind husband. This is an example of a typical excursion to the baby department:

Corinne- *skipping merrily towards a rack of pink rompers at target* Ohhh, baby! Isn't this adorable!!

Robert- Oh, yeah

Corinne-*hurt at lack of interest* Can't you just see our tiny little girl wearing something like this? She will look BEYOND precious!

Robert- uh huh

Corinne-*more determined* But see, it has ruffles on the butt!!!

Robert- *rolling eyes* Oooooookay......

Corinne- RUFFLES!!

Robert- yes

Corinne- ON THE BUTT!

Robert- I see that

Corinne- DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS??!?!?!?

Robert-*sigh* what....

Corinne- Our baby girl, would have all the innate beauty that is sure to inhabit her tiny body, AND RUFFLES on her little, baby BUTT!!!

Robert-........................

Corinne-.....................I think we need to get it!

Robert-*snarkily smirking* Okay then, get it.

And thus I have discovered for myself, the absolute joy that is dressing my baby daughter in the morning. Putting together ensemble's like Clinton Kelly and Staci London on "What not to wear". Coordinating outfit, and socks, and headband to create just the perfect look for that day. I cannot fully describe the glee I felt when I discovered the socks that look like mary jane's! I know my daughter does not care one tiny little bit what she is wearing at this point in her life,(proven to me by the fact that she drools on every thing I put her in) but I feel confident that someday....She will look back at what a well dressed baby she was, and be grateful for all the thought I put into her attire.....or she will roll her eyes, looking scarily like her father as she looks at picture after picture of herself in outfits with distinctly, ruffly, butts!