Ok My peeps, in exactly two weeks we will be finding out the sex of our love child. I find it interesting that everyone has an opinion of why they think it’s going to be a boy or a girl. Some say it’s going to be a boy because of the mad morning sickness Monica had. Some say it’s going to be a girl because her body is not “Squared” (whatever that means). Anyways, here’s a poll so you can vote of what you think it’s going to be, so rock the vote!:
Will it be a boy or girl?
Girl! (51%, 21 Votes)
Boy! (49%, 20 Votes)
Total Voters: 41
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As for me, as long as the baby is healthy, I am happy. Actually.. I must admit that I would prefer to have a boy. As a matter of fact, I am terrified, scared to death almost of the thought of having a girl. Why? Well, girls are harder to raise. With boys, you let them be, let them loose, free to discover and conquer their small universe. You can teach them to not cry, but to be proud of their scraped knees when they fall, because they will be like medals for not “playing it safe,” for exploring, for doing what men do, falling and getting back up; to take on challenges head on. But with girls? No, you can’t let them roam free without the territorial instinct of a father, or lion, keeping a close eye on his pride. No, she will not be told to stop crying when she falls. She will instead be picked up by this man, who will hold her, kiss her boo-boo and whose heart will probably hurt more than her little scrape. Then carry her away to safe place where doll houses and tea parties will await her. But what I am most terrified about is those years… when the teenage years come… What will I do? How many must I shoot with my shotgun before I will be able to let go? Oh man, it’s terrifying! So yea, I think raising a boy will be easier. Because I will have to teach him something I already know: how to be a man. But if God wants to bless us with a princess, I am ready to take on the challenge head on with the dedication of father, a prayer on my mind, a bible in one hand and a shotgun on the other.
Mónica acarrea ese bebe, ese esplendor que va durmiendo, sonriendo, bailando en su vientre y que, incluso sin conocer el mundo, sabe quién soy.
Qué me lleva a pensar eso? Escucha su corazón, escucha esos saltos, esas patadas, ese vibrar que es como… como una bandera en las alturas de Neuschwanstein.
Monica carries in her that child, that splendor that goes on sleeping, smiling, dancing in her womb and that even without knowing the world, knows who I am.
What leads me to think this? Hear it’s heart, listen as it jumps, kicks, vibrates like… like a flag in the heights of Neuschwanstein.
* Friends, readers, we ask that you do not leave any comments on any other place but this blog. The reason is simple, when you leave comments on Facebook or Myspace, they will disappear one day when we decide that we have outgrown them and disable our accounts. When you leave comments on this blog however, your comments will remain for years and years to come. You will leave your mark and the comments will be a part of our history. We will always look back at this entry and see everything that has been written without worry that someone else can delete them since we own the content of this site. Feel free to leave a comment and share with us this joyous occasion. -Monica, Alex, our Love Child, and Romeo.
A few of you have expressed interest in knowing the details of how it happened since I didn’t say anything on the first blog entry. To keep this PG, unfortunately for all of you I am going to have to skip the best part of how the baby happened.
I’ll start from that Sunday afternoon when I went to practice with my dedicated soccer team. When I returned home as soon as I was turning the knob in the front door, Monica semi opened the door and told me to close my eyes. “Nice!” I thought to myself. “I just gotta take a quick shower and I am ready to roll.” She held my hand and guided me into our bedroom. I stepped into our love room and I could distinctly smell the roses she had placed all around. I was ready to open my eyes and put some love music, you know? Some “Let’s get it on” by Marvin Gaye, some R&B, some “Your body is calling me” by R. Kelly, you know, some of that good stuff. I was smirking, grinning like a teenager about to get some action, thinking, “Man, I must have done something good!” I could feel my body temperature rising. But nope, forget about it, I opened my eyes and the first thing I see is a basket full with a stork, baby paraphernalia, a handmade card, a champagne bottle, 2 Cigars and the golden glow of some twenty candles that did not match Monica’s smile as she told me “We are pregnant!” My reaction? You can read it here.
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