No, I'm not having a baby, thank you very much. I'm hoping that one of the children that I've already had will eventually realize that she is a girl. DeLaynie, as you saw yesterday, loves dirt. She also loves cars, pirate ships, and tools. Her favorite thing at the church is the tool bench in one of the other class rooms. Whenever I go to pick her up, she heads straight into the room with the tool bench.
I had pink and lavendar hopes for Ella. I kept her as frilly as I am capable. (I, myself, am anti-lace and not too fond of pink.) I've tried to force bows, but they never stay in too long since she loves ripping headbands off her head, and she doesn't have enough hair to hold in a clippy. I encourage girly toys, like dolls. She'll chew on anything, so she at least bites on the heads of her dolls. I got her the girliest push-walker this world has so far seen.
Today I made my big mistake. I brought down a toy car, the kind that you put the chunky little people in. Or, my brother did about fifteen years ago. I don't think that they make those any more. It clicks as you push it. Ella loves it. Forget dolls, pink walkers, or anything else. She loves that Little Tykes car.
If it wasn't for DeLaynie's constant desire to nurture and love on anything and everything, I would be thoroughly concerned. Ella still has hope, though I may need to smuggle the car back upstairs, forcing her to play with something pink.
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