Gender Identity Confusion, parts 2 and 3

Monday afternoon we went to urgent care at our pediatrician's office because we suspected Quinn had pink eye (he did, and it's okay now). Enter the nurse practitioner, medical records in hand:

NP: And what are we seeing her for today?

Me: His eye has been oozy, and his daycare provider thinks he has pink eye.

NP: Well, let's take a look at her. She's such cutie!

Me: We think he's pretty special.

NP: Okay, let's look in his ear.

???

Next day, we go to Hen House, scene of the last gender confusion debacle. Quinn is wearing his blue polo shirt and khaki cargo pants, and looking, I think, very "little man." We're checking out, and the lady bagging our groceries comes rushing over.

Lady: I just have to come see your little girl. How old is she?

Me: He's almost 10 months old.

Lady: Well, she's just adorable. (Quinn shoots her a smile. He loves the ladies, and the ladies love him.) Ooooh, she has such a beautiful smile!

Me: Yes, he loves to flirt with the ladies....Have a good day!

As we're walking away, I hear her say: And I love her cute little shoes, too!

Now, I'm not upset, but it is funny to me. Mostly because, number one, I don't think that Quinn looks like a girl. I think he's a pretty cute little boy, but I don't think he makes that cute of a girl. Number two, I do recognize that there is some gender ambiguity when it comes to babies under a year. I've been in that situation myself. And I have evolved the following coping mechanism: "What a little cutie!! How old??" And then most obliging parents respond with "(personal pronoun) is (number) months old." Probably all the while they're wondering why I don't finish my sentences. But I've got my information, so I don't care. Of course, now my cover's blown, but it's worked well for me up to this point.

Anyway, just a slice of our life, mostly to cover up the fact that I haven't figured out how to get the pictures of our exciting weekend off the camera yet. So, stay tuned for that. Sneak peek: Graduation, Biter Biscuit, Umbrella. Now you're thinking, aren't you??

Original Hair

Quinn has always had this piece of hair at the back of his head that we call his Original Hair. It's been growing as long as he's been alive, and when all of the rest of his baby-baby hair fell out, it hung on.

I talked to Seth about his Original Hair. I twirled it around my finger while he nursed. I tried to decide whether to comb it forward, down, or around in a cowlick-y circle.

I even tried to photograph it...
















but it didn't photograph very well. And WHY did I try to photograph it? Because I knew that it would, eventually, fall out....or be cut...in short, be no more. Some even tried to suggest that this would be the perfect lock of hair to take for his baby book. But I resisted. This is his Original Hair. I could not willingly get rid of the Original Hair, the last of my itty-bitty Quinn, who is so quickly becoming bigger-baby Quinn.

So, I did know that this day would come. I discovered that his Original Hair is gone. Gone. Where did it go? Did I dry-dry-dry it out in our after-bath fluff-the-hair ritual? Did he pull it out himself? I had this fantasy moment where I envisioned Seth coming to me with a cute little envelope and telling me that he had cut off the Original Hair himself and stored it safely away for me. But he didn't. It's just gone. And I'm...sad. I'll get over it, but still, today, I'm a little sad for his Original Hair.