Hooray! Nora got her requested birthday present and everything is going well. My due date is somewhere in the third week of August, not nearly soon enough for Nora, who will randomly assault my belly to "check if the baby is big yet."
The best moment of the pregnancy to date is the following conversation:
Nora: Yay! I want it to be a girl.
Me: Yeah, we don't really get to choose that.
Nora: OK. I'm the big sister. I'll choose. It's a girl.
Me: You don't get to choose either.
Nora: Who chooses then?
Me: God chooses.
And then, Nora said something to make me realize that I had not done the leg work to support that statement.
"Why? Does God get to be the big sister?"