I often wonder what kind of a “girl” Gabby will be.
When I watch her play with her brothers, I’m convinced she’s going to be quite the Tom Boy, just like I was. She’s tough, she’s bossy and she’s very loud, which, in my opinion, all scream “TOMBOY!”
And this makes me very happy. Boys are what I know. Dirt. Rocks. Bloody knees. Poop jokes. Balls. These are the things I am familiar with, that I have come to know and love.
But yesterday, I discovered Gabby has an extremely “Girly” side.

She HATED the grass. She was like “What IS this itchy stuff touching my soft, delicate skin?”

She wanted so badly to crawl to where I was sitting, but she refused to put her hands on the ground and touch the grass.
“Stop that Gabby! It’s just grass! Stop being such a GIRL!” I begged of her.
I’m actually afraid of her turning out to be girly girl, because, I don’t know how to handle that crap!
She finally got the nerve to crawl to where I was sitting, but SHE HATED IT and spent the next 5 minutes trying to remove EVERY LITTLE PIECE OF GRASS from her body.

It’s quite possible baby boys hate grass too and that I’m making her hatred of grass into something it isn’t, but the way she whined and the faces she made had “I’m a princess who doesn’t like to get dirty because she’s too pretty to get dirty”
AND I CAN’T DEAL WITH A PRINCESS IN MY HOUSE.
Her farting skills had led me to believe she was going to be The Ultimate Tomby, but underneath all of that explosive gas, I do believe there is a Prissy Girly Girl waiting to be set free.

**Cute baby butt coverup courtesy of Mommy’s Amazing Paint Skillz.

Today I made my first real attempt to fix Gabby’s hair all pretty. As you can see, it didn’t turn out very pretty at all.
The reason?
My boobs.
She was standing in her crib, I was standing facing her, with no shirt on, just a bra. A nursing bra. A nursing bra with snaps in the front.
As I attempted to put the baretts in her hair, she was attempting a little experiment of her own. The girl was trying to figure out how to how to unsnap the bra.
She grabbed. She grunted. She pulled. She grunted some more. And then, finally… “POP!” And out came the boob.
She let out the loudest “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” I’ve ever heard and did a little victory dance. (Which I have to admit, was totally precious)
She got lucky, I thought.
Yeah, right. As soon as I snapped it back up and resumed combing her hair, she unsnapped it again.
“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE” She squeeled, again.
“I’m trying to make you look pretty, you big stinky! Leave my boobs alone! PLEASE! Stop the insanity!”
Psh. As if. “POP”.
That was it. The girl had figured out “the system” and she wasn’t going to stop. I went and put a shirt on.
Gabby didnt’ like that. At all.

“You won’t leave my boobs alone, I’m not going to fix your hair pretty. You get to go to the doctors with jacked up hair!”
SO TAKE THAT, LITTLE BRA UNSNAPPER!
I had a revelation as she was ripping my bra off. Infact my inner voice spoke to me. “I think it’s time you wean the girl, because, it’s only a matter of time before she starts ripping your shirt off in public whilst screaming ‘I WANT BOOBIE NOW!!'”
Gabby’s pediatrician told me it might be time to start weaning her and start introducing her to whole milk (and I didn’t even tell her about the bra incident!) She’s not gained much weight since the last visit and she said that it could be because my milk supply is dwindling.
I think she might be right, but I’m not sure about the whole milk thing before a year. She said it’s ok, as long as I introduce it slowly. I want to believe her, but I noticed she doesn’t wash her hands for 30 seconds, which leads me to believe she doesn’t watch Oprah.
And really, what kind of a mother would I be if I trusted the opinion of someone who doesn’t watch Oprah?

It’s an absolutely beautifully perfect day today. It reminds me why we choose to live here, and Lord knows I need remindin’ sometimes. The traffic. The high cost of living. The unaffordable homes. At times I want to pack up and move to Texas, but then a day like this comes along and I’m all “hell no! I won’t go!”

I took Gabriella to the park so we could enjoy the beautiful sunshine .

I couldn’t justify staying in this dark, dusty house when there was sunshine, green grass and pretty little birdies singing outside. (It’s been a LONG time since I hit you with The Cheese. You will take The Cheese and you will LIKE IT!)

She loved laying on the grass. But not as much as I loved watching her.
And taking pictures of her. Lots and lots of pictures of her. My God, she is a beautiful baby.
After we were through playing in the wet, cool grass, we walked over to the playground. I wanted to put her in the baby swing and see if she’d enjoy it or if she’d freak out.

She loved it.
She laughed. She squeeled. She kicked her feet. It was incredible to watch.

And yes, I totally cried. Right there at the park while pushing her swing. I couldn’t get over how precious my daughter is.

After much swinging and laughter and quite a bit of farting, we went on a little walk so I could get some exercise in. It wasn’t long before the excitement of the day got to Gabby and she was ready for a nap.
We came home, I kissed her on her cheek and thanked her for a glorious day, then I went to my room, got on my knees and thanked God for knowing I needed her and giving her to me.