With Alexis' third birthday just "two sleeps" away, I've been thinking back to her birth quite a bit lately. This year is strangely reminiscent of 2006, given the Steelers are headed to the Super Bowl again this year, and the fact that Alexis was born smack dab between the AFC Championship and the Super Bowl in 2006. It's a little like deja vu, but without the giant belly, constant kicks to the lungs, and inability to ever get any sleep. Wait--the inability to sleep is EXACTLY the same.

Anyway.

Three years ago today, we didn't know if we were going to be having a boy or a girl. I wanted a girl because I had no idea what you do with a boy. Mr. Husband liked the idea of a boy because he had no idea what you do with a girl. It was my decision to let gender be a big ol' surprise, and since Mr. Husband couldn't promise he wouldn't accidentally spill the beans, he had to go along for the ride.

I didn't want to know for many reasons. There is no greater surprise than that one, and waiting was fun. I have a terrible hatred of pink, so if it were a girl, I could hopefully temper for the quantity of pukey pink in the closet (little did I know that's nearly impossible for the first year or so) by not giving people advanced notice. There were plenty of other reasons, but it boiled down to I just didn't want to know ahead of time.

But I did.

Not because of an ultrasound, or anything like that. Because I knew.

I remember the exact moment I realized I knew. I was walking through Macy's after a fourteen thousands eleventy kajillionth trip to the bathroom. As I strolled (this was well before the waddling stage) past the teen girl clothes, I thought to myself, "I am NOT looking forward to dealing with that crap." Then I froze in my tracks, pondering why I was so certain that I would be dealing with that crap. I couldn't figure out a reason, but I was 100% positive.

There were days when I wavered in my surety, like the time I barfed up beloved Jumba Juice during a flight south. Surely only a BOY would torture a mom to the point of puking on a plane when there were no barf bags in the seat pocket. But, most of the time I was POSITIVE we were going to be adding a girl to our family.

Now I'm positive I would have it no other way, even with the never-ending battles over clothes.