"Is he a girl?"

Miss Dub is a girl.

And while babies do have an asexual appearance, I don’t think it requires an unveiling of her diaper to determine her gender. Even when she wears blue.

When people ask me this question – about twelve times daily, but who’s counting? – I want to respond with my own questions.

Like, “Do you think her head-to-toe pink ensemble might be a clue?”

Or, “Do you think I would wrap my son’s head with a fat bow?”

Or, “How many freaking times do I have to use a feminine pronoun for you to stop referring to my dearest ‘she’ as a ‘he’?”

It’s not that I haven’t been in the same situation myself as most babies, especially newborns, bear no feminine or masculine qualities to announce their respective chromosome combinations.

And if the baby is sporting a unisex outfit, it’s that much harder. (And don’t even get me started about boys wearing dresses – I’m all for equality, but you’re really making these kinds of questions harder for the rest of us.)

I just make sure to listen, observe and then ask carefully before making gender assumptions. Or trick the mom into revealing it without expressing my ambiguity.

Maybe it’s my bad because I’m not into frilly duds that scream “girl!” to the innocent bystander. And I don’t really do bows that often because:
a. I can’t find cute ones
b. Mr. Dub hates them
c. Miss Dub hates them
d. They make her head all a’sweaty
e. All of the above

(The correct answer is E.)

But despite all my ranting, I really don’t mind giving someone a quick clarification on Miss Dub’s gender when asked. What’s really annoying is when someone defends themselves for calling her a boy.

Like, “Well, why is she wearing red pants?” (Um, I don’t know because I didn’t get the memo that said red is exclusive to boys. Not to mention I paired it with a frilly white sweater.)

Or, “Then why did you give her a boy’s name?” (Um, it’s not. You’re thinking of Aidan.)

Or, “Well she looks like a boy!” (Um, excuse me, I’m about to go Jackie Chan on you!)

So I just wanted you all to know she’s a girl as I’m clearly a little sensitive about the question.

But not as sensitive as I was about some other questions, like:

“Are you due any day now?” … when I was only 5 months along.

Or, “Did you really want a boy?” … when I told people I was expecting a girl.

Or, “Are you planning to breastfeed?” … when I was pregnant. (Because although I do breastfeed, I still find that question a bit too personal for chatting with strangers over Costco’s salmon selection.)

What are the most annoying questions people ask you, mothers or not?

And if you are a mom … don’t you wish you could have just handed them this ?

1.5 + 3.5 = this

* There is something called the Parent Bloggers Network, and I am now a proud member of of it. Which means that I get to review cool, new parent products that may or may not make life as a mom easier. But one thing is for sure: I will let you know if they do with total honesty. And if there is a reference to farting involved, all the better. Because I find that farting is the answer 9 times out of 10. (Seriously, take an inconsolable Miss Dub, let her rip a few poots and – toot! – she’s good as new, though she will smell like rancid veggies for a few hours.)

* Naps are evil. As you may know, I’ve been suffering from napsomnia for a couple years now, which brought me much distress and many boring Sunday afternoons. I used to be able to log 3-4 hours when given just the right bedroom conditions. But now I’m lucky to turn off my brain for 20 minutes of shuteye. However, the cosmos aligned yesterday and I slept soundly for more than an hour. Come nighttime, however, I could not sleep from 1 to 3 a.m. I finally gave up and started reading a book that is very interesting (though the accuracy is questionable and the language is realistic so I durst not recommend it for fear you’ll think I’m a hussy). When sugarplums finally came to rest in my head, a teething Miss Dub woke up and insisted on staying up for an hour. And then getting back up for good an hour later. This resulted in a whopping 3.5 hours of sleep. Now, I know that many people promote naps as a way to ease sleep deprivation, but I’m not really seeing how my 1.5 hour nap and 3.5 sleep add up to 8 hours in any galaxy. Even the far away ones where people wear buns on the sides of their heads.

* Less than 4 hours of sleep is not advisable. Do not operate heavy machinery, my friends, including toasters and sippy cups.

* It is possible to arrive to the airport on time, have your plane arrive on time and still have your flight canceled. Why, pray tell? Because there are no pilots to fly your plane. This very thing happened to Mr. Dub the other night, forcing him to come home because they unfortunately declined his offer to fly the plane himself. (Good choice, American, good choice!) And when they say that your pilots are driving to the airport from another airport, should you worry? I mean, if they aren’t willing to fly, why should you be?

* Mean people suck. Yes, all those years of mocking the girls with attitudes but no real conviction who adorned their vehicles (usually a hatchback) with this bumper sticker must be rescinded. Because jerks who plant car bombs and drive cars into airport terminals are, well, jerks. I used take into consideration their personal circumstances, ideology and general brain-washing when these things happened, which brought me a tinge of understanding. Now, I just want to tell bad guys like this to grow up. Make a difference without violence.

* Do not ask for directions in Illinois unless you are a certified cartographer. Because it will take you longer to reach your destination than if you just wandered the streets aimlessly in search of it. No streets run continuously North/South or East/West. All streets change names so you must memorize their corresponding highway number, which is also subject to change. And if they tell you it’s at the intersection of two highways, know that there are at least three said intersections, all in different towns. Don’t ask for clarification on which it is, just keep driving. Take my word on this.

* In addition to loving labyrinth infrastructures, Midwesterners love a good bean bag toss. I had not seen or played this game since an elementary school carnival, but in the last few days I’ve seen a plethora of bean bag tosses. Like, guys with beers in one hand and bean bags in the other. Any insight, Ann? Is this to Illinois what Frisbee is to California? Or Capture the Flag is to Arizona? Or Missionary Tag is to Utah? (Also known by another, unprintable name!)

* Miss Dub is a crawling fool. This would be great if her destination wasn’t always pulling herself up onto something and then trying to fling herself onto some distant piece of furniture. Of course, if she made webs this would be fine. But she doesn’t, which is good because that would be freaky, and because I find Tobey Maguire to be the biggest sissy this side of the Mississippi. (And if you keep heading East you’d eventually hit the other side so pretty much he’s the biggest wimp in the whole, wide world. No offense, Tobey.)

* Don’t pick at your face. I promise it won’t make it better.

* Do not write posts on 3.5 hours of sleep.