I know I've mentioned this before, but people are constantly mistaking Morgan for a little boy. I admit this is partially (okay, probably 98%) my fault, since I don't go out of my way to make her look especially feminine.
It's not that I haven't attempted to doll her up or that I have anything against girly girls, in fact, the opposite is true. I adore girls in cute, coordinating outfits with flowery headbands! Morgan, on the other hand, despises them (headbands that is, not the pretty little girls). In fact, headbands are quite possibly the thing she detests most about life on this side of the womb. (Also in the running: socks, bibs, dresses and shirts with collars.)
Since Morgan is still nearly bald, any kind of barrette or cute clip is pretty much out of the question. People have suggested pasting a little bow in her hair (or rather, ON HER SCALP) with KY jelly, but we're not really bow people. We're also not big on anything lacy or particularly frilly for that matter. And even if I found an object that I felt was acceptable--girly, but not over the top--we still run into the lack-of-hair-issue. I think there is something odd, even a little creepy, about random objects stuck on a baby's bald head. So really, without going so far as to write GIRL across her forehead in bold, permanent marker, we're left with one option: dressing her in pink FROM HEAD TO TOE ALL THE TIME, which seems like it would require more effort than I'm willing to commit to.
This whole gender confusion issue used to be quite a sore spot for me (I may have even threatened someone with bodily harm for making the mistake of calling her a "cute little fella"), but I've reached a point where it honestly doesn't bother me anymore. People can call her a boy as much as they feel the need to. I mean, I know she's a girl and she knows she's a girl and who cares what other people think, right?
I suppose I've just grown up a bit.
Or perhaps the real reason I've become so complacent is that I find it sinfully delightful to watch strangers squirm as they try to figure out her gender. I absolutely LOVE it when someone says something like, "Your baby is so cute! How old is... um, your baby?"
If I were truly a compassionate person, I'd say "SHE's almost eleven months old." Instead, I say something to the effect of, "My baby is almost eleven months old, and my baby certainly is a cute baby, isn't my baby?" Then I stand there smiling until the puzzled stranger becomes so uncomfortable that they turn and walk away, silently cursing the crazy lady and her cute baby boy/girl, no doubt. You guys, it is just SO. MUCH. FUN!
So... maybe I haven't grown up that much.
Anyway, in case you happen to be wondering and you'd like to avoid a similar awkward experience, I'll just go ahead and tell you now: my baby is indeed a GIRL.
She's an enchanting pink princess who loves playing with her sister's tea set, who enjoys giving kisses and picking pretty flowers, and who sings beautifully as she sits alone flipping through the pages of her books; a darling little miss who also happens to belch like a drunken old man and occasionally sends poop shooting so violently out the back of her diaper that I end up having to wash it out of her hair (or rather, OFF OF HER SCALP).