Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

Did I ever happen to mention that I am surrounded by testosterone? 
Eh....maybe I did once or twice....I don't know. 
But in case I didn't mention it.....I am. 
Surrounded by testosterone, that is. 

The cat, which you have seen prominently displayed, enjoying my half finished crochet creations....
Is a boy. 
Then there are these two boys.....

Khalil

AKA Nervous Nelly

Skinny Bones Jones

 Nash

AKA Chuba Wuba

Fat Boy

Then, of course, there is my husband. 

Then if you throw my son into the mix....

I am  clearly outnumbered.....

My only source of hope is my daughter. 

But she is 350 miles away!!! 

Which brings me to my next complaint.

She is having her ultrasound next week to learn the sex of the baby. 

And it is abundantly clear to me that I am the only one hoping its a girl!! 

Which means it probably is a boy....because that is the way things usually work. 

(Do you feel sorry for me yet?????) 

Is it really too much to ask for a little more pink and cuddly added to the family?? 

And I don't want to hear that raising girls is harder than raising boys.....

Raising children is hard.  Period. 

So in the mean time I will hope and pray for pink. 

Knowing that I will probably see blue....

Like Linda Ronstadt says.....

"Oh, these boys won't let me be,

Lord have MERCY on me.....

Woe is me."  ;-)