You both want kids, what do they look like?
I’ve always wanted to have kids. You know that Lorelai-Rory relationship? The kind of parent-child relationship that seems like it’s only possible in a fictional world? I had that. I had that with my mom for the first 4 years in my life. I think there’s a poetic justice to the fact that she died when I was that young. That bond shouldn’t be possible, at least not in this sinkhole of a world we live in. The best part is, I hold all of the memories that made her a supermom. She was a lot of people’s sister, she was a lot of people’s friend, she was a couple of people’s daughter, but I got the upper-hand over all those people. I’m the only person in this world who got to know her as a mother.
She was the perfect parent and I have to be who she was to me to my daughter. That’s right, I want a daughter first, just like she had.
Her name is going to be Nevaeh. Why? Because my name is Olympia, which means heaven, and heaven spelled backwards is…(Yup you guessed it, here’s a cookie 🍪).
I’m going to love her no matter what, but for now, let’s pretend I can build her in some weird robot machine. She’ll have my full hair so I can play with it until she’s old enough to smack my hand away. I want her to have his beautiful, piercing Irish blue eyes so she can knock people down with a single stare. I want her to have his cute little piggy nose so I can play that obnoxious “I’ve got your nose game.” I want her to have his smile, a mouth full of naturally perfect teeth that would baffle any and every dentist. I don’t really care whose body she has because we’re both capable of outrunning zombies, so she’s good either way.
I want her to have my passion for music, so we can sing and dance together. I want her to have a blend of creativity from both of us. I want her to have his athletic drive. I want her to be as kind as he is. I want her to be as obstinate as we both are. I want her to stand out in a crowded room. I want her to stand up for herself like he does. I want her to take a pause to listen to what people have to say, she’ll get that from me.
I want her to be the most beautiful girl in the world and even if she isn’t any of the things I just listed, there is no possible way that I wouldn’t use Lucas as a human shield if anyone ever tried to harm her.
I’d love it if my first child was a boy. I don’t have a preference for any gender, in fact I’d love to have a daughter one day… but she needs a body guard. My boy will have light cocoa skin, courtesy of his momma, and he’ll have curly dark brown hair. Who knows, maybe he’ll even end up with my blue eyes, that would be something, alright. He’ll be creative and athletic like his father, brilliant and charismatic like his mother. He will be a kind, considerate, beautiful boy full of heart. He will have his flaws as well. It’ll be hard for him to put aside his own feelings for the sake of others. He’ll be the biggest procrastinator the world has ever seen. None of his flaws will ever be capable of overshadowing his charming personality, his wit, and his gorgeous face.
A few years later, he’ll be joined by a breathtaking baby girl (if God’s plan goes the way I want it too). She’ll have dark brown eyes, the longest eyelashes a baby could possess, the cutest little nose, and soft, light brown skin. She’ll have light, curly hair and the sweetest laugh anyone could imagine. She’ll be a bookworm like her mother, and she’ll be fighting off the boys in no time, much to my dismay. She’ll love to make cupcakes with momma, and she won’t mind shooting a few baskets with her dad on the weekend. I don’t know if I can picture a more perfect girl, other than her mother. I’ll cherish walking into her room on late summer nights, only to find her hiding under her blanket with a book at 1 in the morning. I won’t even be mad, I’d probably join her and read till she falls asleep.
One day, before I know it, I’ll be moving all their stuff into a dorm room somewhere far away, and I’ll be aching, knowing they’ll be so far away and out of my protective arms. But it’ll also be amazing. Like a robin watching it’s chicks learn to fly, I’ll be releasing them into the cold, dark world, hoping they can bring some warmth to it. I’m certain that when I’m old and grey, I’ll be proud of them beyond words.