three girls and a boy.

Have you ever noticed that the mere fact of having children invites people to talk to you when you are out and about?

 

It's true. When it's just little ol' me out running errands, no one even notices me. I stand in a checkout line and the chances of someone striking up a conversation with me are slim to none. I can peruse the home decor aisle at Target with nary a backward glance from a stranger. I can sit at Starbucks and practically be invisible, just another person drinking their favorite coffee drink.

But add my four children into the mix, and suddenly, I am glaringly obvious. I get comment after comment, from sweet nostalgic old people to young twenty-somethings who usually look slightly relieved that it's not them shopping with four kids in tow. Other moms with their hands full give me a nod and a smile and speak a word as we maneuver our carts and kids past each other. Solidarity, sista!

 

I don't mind this sort of thing at all. Really, I am the type of  gal who will happily chat with any random person. Usually, I'm the one who tries to strike up a friendly convo with the person behind me in line. I love talking to people, and I like to say things like "oh, I love your boots!" or, "your hair is gorgeous, how do you get it so shiny?" (yes, I'm a wee bit awkward, I'm sure.)

Quite often, I am thankful for the comments I get when out with my children:

"My, you have your hands full!" (The most frequent. I don't mind this one, because, well, I do.)

"Oh, this brings me back... cherish these days, they go by too fast."

"Cute kids. Looks like fun, mama!"

Most people are bright and positive, encouraging and friendly. I like that.

 

But every so often, you get a comment that really makes you stop and think, one that makes you wish afterwards that you had the chance to respond, the right words to say on the spot:

"Three girls and just one boy?! Oh, poor little guy. All those sisters to grow up with."

I've gotten variations of this one several times. And while I may not think to say something to whatever person is making it, this is what I wish I could say.



I have three daughters and a son. Just one son. A single solitary boy, the youngest of them all, and so he will grow up with THREE big sisters.

He gets to grow up with three sisters.
Three sisters who love him more than I can even properly put into words.
Three sisters who take delight in him and think he's the best thing ever... even when he's a little stinker.
Three sisters who show him affection and tell him how great he is every single day.

These girls will be the first women in his life, the ones who will love him first and most fiercely for a long time.
He will grow up with a front-row seat to the ins and outs and ups and downs of being a girl. (I'm hoping and praying that he will learn from this how to treat a lady and be a gentleman, and that someday he will make an even better husband because of it.)
Sure, there will probably be times in his life when he'll wish he had a brother, or at least maybe not all these sisters. (after all, siblings will be siblings.)

But I think God knew what He was doing when He planned our family just the way it is.
And I think it's pretty cool that our boy gets to grow up with three of his very own personal cheerleaders. Three little ladies to root for him and watch out for him and let him know just how special he is.

these pictures were taken a couple months ago when Bennett was first figuring out how to pull himself up to standing. Emma and Annabelle and Rosalie were amazed and thrilled by his latest accomplishment and literally cheered him on as he climbed up and fell down, only to climb up again. Such a sweet moment for this mama to watch.