Princess Maggie Moo

From the moment I found out I was pregnant with Maggie, I knew she was a girl. I can't explain it, but I did. I know a big part of it was just being hopeful. I had wanted Will to be a girl too. And he wasn't. And I cried. 

Now, of course, I wouldn't have it be any other way.

But with Mags, I knew it from the instant that the test was positive. And immediately, her name was Margaret and she was going to love bows and dresses and baby dolls and high heel shoes and be every bit of the girly princess that I wanted her to be. She was not going to be Chrissy---my camouflage wearing, shotgun slinging, thunderchicken murdering sister. NEVER. In fact, I never really entertained the thought that she would be anything other than the image I created. My only true worry beyond her health was whether Will would like her.

He has always been a Momma's boy and he is only 26 months older than her. I knew for sure that he was going to believe that this little, tiny, wrinkly princess had wrecked his entire world. But then she was born and from the moment that he first held her in the hospital, he loved her dearly. His love for her is visceral. You can see it in the way he looks at her. When we got home from the hospital, I worried not that he would leave her outside on the front door step but instead squeeze her to death from love. He nicknamed her immediately as his "precious Lil' Maggie Moo" and "Mags." They stuck. He never wanted her to cry, he always wanted her to have whatever she wanted. "Momma, give Mags some boobie. She is starving!" He rocked her, sang to her, and devoted every spare moment to her happiness.

Today, if you ask him her full name, he will say, Margaret Princess Burgess. He believes with all of his heart that she is a princess and that she gets whatever she wants. Spoiled doesn't even begin to cover it. She lays in the floor kicking her feet until Will gives in to her. She barely has to screech before he asks her what it is that she desires. If she cries, he will come running and he is almost always the first to comfort her. If he cries in pain or sadness, she cries too in sympathy.

Don't get me wrong, I think it is sweet and I am so grateful that he loves her so deeply. I hope he always feels this love for her. However, his deep bond has created an interesting shift in the "perfect little princess" image I created in pregnancy. She will wear dresses and loves shoes. She totally has the diva princess attitude. But her girlishness stops there. She won't play with dolls. She doesn't want anything that resembles a girl toy. Give her a monster truck, matchbox car, or dump truck and she is happy. Mud? Sand? Loves them! I am pretty sure if I dressed her in camo and gave her a shotgun, she'd be sitting in a turkey blind by morning. Because she and Will have the unbreakable bond, she wants to be just as tough and tumble as he is. She wants to play ball, jump on the trampoline, and climb on tall things just. like. him. My girly princess is quickly becoming quite the little tomboy.

And while I do at least wish she liked baby dolls, all I really want is for her to grow up to be a strong, self-reliant, independent woman---whether she fancies tiaras or camo is really up to her. And I know that no matter what, she is going to have a big brother who always watches her back. This morning, I woke up with he and Maggie laying in between Josh and me. Will was singing a little tune he made up. It goes like this:

Maggie Moo, Maggie Moo

My baby sister, My baby sister

You mess with her, You mess with her

And I will punch you in the nose, yep, punch you in the nose.



She looked up to him from the beginning!

Maggie is just a few days old here.
And I found him just hanging out in the crib with her!



And he was more than happy to show her monster trucks, even when sleeping!