Monday, July 31, 2006

It's... Not A Girl

Some of you have written in to ask if I'm disappointed that I have a nephew instead of a niece. Well, it would have been nice to have a complete salt-and-pepper shaker set, but I assure you that the first words out of my mouth when I heard the news were not, "Well--now what am I supposed to do with my Saint Mary's Alumnae Endorsed Application?"

I shouldn't have been surprised, actually; when I heard that Julie The NephewsMama was in labor, I immediately launched into the SuperAunt Helpful Activity of taking a nap. I dreamed that I met Prince William. Normally I don't go about predicting the gender of my sister's children via dreamwork, however, so I didn't think anything of it until I heard his name, for as in all things like this ("I wore this bra last week and the Reds won, so now I can never change it again"), coincidence hindsight is always perfectly clear.

Josh The Pilot and I walked the entirety of Toys Infuriatingly Backwards "R" Us over the weekend (it still smells the same--like plastic and despair), and I took him down the Pink Aisle, the one with the dress up clothes and the sparkly batons and the My Little Ponies. It hasn't changed much, only there are dolls named "Bratz" now, apparently very popular (I wouldn't know; my twenty-year-old male student pilots tend not to fill me in on these things), which seem to encourage pole dancing, weighing four ounces, and a great deal of Pat Benetar-era eyeshadow. They have a great many shoes, at least one pair of which they have to wear at all times, otherwise they have no feet, which speaks dumptrucks, culturally. I'm glad I don't have to deal with a niece in the face of this for now.

I will admit to going "Awwwwwwww!" when I saw a little princess dress, but only because it was 27 sizes too small for me. We got Will a reversible fleece cover for his carrying case--you know, those baby seats with handles that you shove in the car and then tote to Mass or the grocery store or the off-track betting parlor or whatever. The carrying case cover is awesome, you guys. It will keep the rain off him, and there's even a little hole for Will to stick his head through. I'm very relieved somebody thought of that. The packaging even advertises it: "Peek hole for baby's face." Because when you need to keep your baby dry, make sure he feels as though he's just been shoved into a duffel bag.

Or, you can close it up so the baby can't see the cold, horrible world out there. I recommend this option.

Jim The Small Child Nephew is taking slightly better to his big brother role. He says "brother" now, and "Baby Will," and hasn't gone about slamming anything into a wall recently, so that's progress. He is upset when Will cries, and sat down next to my sister for breakfast this morning and pointed to her chair. "Baby sit," he commanded.

"Mommy can sit here and hold Will," she suggested to The Prince.

"No," he said. "Baby sit."

You hear that, Will? You develop the ability to hold your head up right now. Your brother demands a dining companion.

That, or he's just trying to gain his trust before... the rest of the plan.

aunt Beth actually will always have gum, Monica at: mb@blondechampagne.com

9 comments:

HelloBettyLou said...

I probably felt the same way when my sisters were born. But we are so close in age that I don't. I do order them around though, one of the perks of being the big sister and thinking you have all the power.

April Laramey said...

only there are dolls named "Bratz" now, apparently very popular (I wouldn't know; my twenty-year-old male student pilots tend not to fill me in on these things), which seem to encourage pole dancing, weighing four ounces, and a great deal of Pat Benetar-era eyeshadow. They have a great many shoes, at least one pair of which they have to wear at all times, otherwise they have no feet, which speaks dumptrucks, culturally. Good thing I don't have to deal with a niece in the face of this for now.

Ha! Those things are hideous. My sister bought one once for my 6 year old niece (Ugh, I know) only to get home and discover it was wearing a thong. She promptly returned it, thank god.

Anonymous said...

When I buy baby toys, I usually get ones that their slightly older siblings happen to like as well.

Over the holidays, a coworker of mine was pregnant with a baby girl and I bought the yet-unborn child a pink pony made out of the softest substance imaginable. Her 4-year old sister promptly stole it, and it took so much cajoling for her to give it to the baby after the big day that I was afraid I would need to purchase another.

For Orion's shower I bought a fun little mirror with a ladybug on it that rotated and played "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" when you pushed a button. This was the most incredible thing in the world to his older sister, Phoenix, who played with it incessantly. Thankfully, after their parents remodeled the house, she forgot about it.

Anonymous said...

Mike,
You have moved me to tears (in an awesome way)

I have always enjoyed your posts, and hubby and I need an 'O' name for our eventual child, so I clicked your link. Once there I read your Labor Day posts 1 & 2. I recommend that EVERYONE read this. I too have friends that are, or have been in theatre, and your words rung true. You took me back to late nights talking with Len (my pirana). He also told me that we are winning, and I trust him over anything I hear on the news.

MB- Sorry to take over, but honestly, read the piece I'm referring to. You'll understand (I hope). :)

SassyQuack said...

The Bratz line gets worse...the newest incarnation is called Baby Bratz...though they appear to be babies in name only. They are dressed in the full skankolicious garb of the regular dolls, complete with boobs, and shake their upper bodies in some sort of disturbing come-hither dance. Between Bratz and the Wayans Bros. upcoming "Thug-a-Boo" show, I don't hold out much hope for the next generation.

Anonymous said...

I too was sucked into the Bratz vortex for a short time. I needed pink wrapping paper for the monthly gift I send to my step-granddaughter. (I am the best 37 year old grandma who never had kids EVER!) so I randomly chose something pink that looked like it had dolls on it. Yep, turned out to be the skanky Brats. I wrapped the present anyway and the most wonderful two year old step-granddaughter in the world refused to go near it cause she was TERRIFIED of the Bratz dolls. Good girl! I promptly threw the wrapping paper away....but I still send her the more-or-less educational gifts monthly, but wrapped in My Little Pony paper now.

Anonymous said...

tamar: You're referring to my Memorial Day and Independence Day essays, together called "Big Picture." The "Labor Day" thing was a joke about a future third installment, which, given the latest news in the Middle East, I might actually have to write.

I am glad you liked it, but in the future, just send me an e-mail, okay? The address is near the top of the right sidebar.

Anonymous said...

To chime in about Bratz: One of my little cousins always asks for Bratz, on every occasion. We always go ahead get her one, in the name of not alienating a stubborn child, but . . . I die a little bit inside every time we do.

Anonymous said...

I know it won't happen any time soon, but I can't wait to read the tale about the first light-saber fight between Jim and his brother Will. Who do you think will grab the red saber? ;-)

So MB, does this mean your sister and brother-in-law have decided to close the nephew-making shop, or is there still a chance that you will get to buy that princess dress in the future?

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