Will we be buying bandaids or glitter? SOON.

I think we find out tomorrow whether we’re having a boy or a girl.

Can I be honest for a second?

Both options excite and terrify me a little.

When we found out we were expecting a third, I expected to get lots of “I really hope it’s a girl!” or “For your sake…it better be a girl.” or “What will you do if it’s another boy?!”

I wasn’t disappointed.

The answer is: I have no idea what we’ll do. In either case.

If it is indeed another boy…first things first, we’ll build an outhouse. Because boys have terrible aim and I’m totally over our bathrooms looking and smelling like a 7-11 bathroom. So outhouse it is.

Aside from that, I’m nervous at the level of destruction 3 boys will cause and the amount of food we’ll have to have on hand. I’ll probably also look into the feasibility of adding another room onto our house…with walls made of sound-proof, injury-proof padding.

If it is a boy, he’ll learn from his 2 older brothers how much fun a rag-tag bunch of testosterone has. He’ll watch his daddy model what it means to be a man who loves his wife and provides for his family. He’ll build trains with engineer Beckett and play ball with all-star Hutton. He’ll kick, punch, touch, or karate chop everything in sight because boys are weird and that’s what they do. He’ll be dirty and stinky and bug-collecty.

If it’s another boy, our house will be a zoo and I will consider charging admission. We won’t own anything nice for at least 10 years, invest in Johnson & Johnson’s first aid line of products (literally had to stop typing this post to put a bandaid on Beckett’s finger because “Mommy I touched that knife you told me not to.”), and buy meat in bulk at Costco.

And I will be over-the-moon ecstatic about it.

So don’t you “I hope for your sake…” me, because boys are freaking awesome. 100% insane and ridiculously hyperactive, but awesome.

But.

If it is a girl…first things first, I’ll go shopping because girl accessories.

Aside from that, I’m nervous. I don’t know how to do girl stuff anymore. I’m equal parts terrified of the outrageously-Texan girl outfits we’ll be given as gifts and of the amount of money I’ll spend on headbands and shoes.

If it’s a girl, she’ll learn from her two older brothers how much gentleness and love a rag-tag bunch of testosterone has to give. She’ll watch her daddy treat her with the utmost respect and devotion like he does her momma. She’ll show chef Beckett how to throw a tea party and teach pterodactyl Hutton how to use his words instead of screeching like a caveman. She’ll be dramatic, wear nail polish, name all her stuffed animals, and play dress up with Mack because girls are weird and that’s what they do. She’ll be sassy and  imaginative and a complete handful.

If it’s a girl, I will share my nail polish collection (may or may not have 100+ bottles). We will own things with glitter, buy toys in previously banned colors like pink and purple, and invest in Disney princess costumes.

And I will be over-the-moon ecstatic about it.

There isn’t possibly an answer for the “but really…do you want a boy or a girl?” question. I want both. And I’m already kind of mourning the option it isn’t.

So. Will we begin construction on an outhouse in the backyard? Or will I be teaching an introductory course to my boys in fairies and pixie dust?

Tomorrow, tomorrow, we {hopefully} find out tomorrow. It’s only a day away.