This weekend we held our gender reveal party for Baby G.
Disclaimer: To be completely accurate it would have been called a “sex” reveal since I acknowledge that gender-identity is not synonymous with biological sex; however, hosting a sex reveal party raises some eyebrows as to the family-friendliness of the event. Therefore, we conformed to the PC term “gender” reveal. We did find a few ways to work in the correct terminology. Example #1 below, keep your eye out for #2.
The event was absolutely fantastic. My sister pulled everything together and did an amazing job. We were surrounded by friends, family, good food, and a few games.
After stuffing our faces at the incredible spread, we polled the attendees on which of us was most likely to perform a series of actions related to Baby G. For example, by overwhelming agreement we determined that Brian should under no circumstances sing lullabies (not really, just my opinion), but he should totally serve initial diaper duty, and that I’m more likely to be obsessively Instragramming our bundle of joy. Oh, and after selecting that Brian would be giving more midnight feedings, I realized that he lacks the proper equipment (ahem, the boobs) and so I corrected my answer.
Next up was a series of scientific inquiries intended to predict the sex of Baby G. And by scientific inquiry, I mean totally unproven Old Wives Tales.
But, were they accurate? A final contest of agility and coordination would ultimately reveal Miss or Mister for our little nugget.
That blue splatter means that it’s a boy! Brian and I are absolutely thrilled to welcome Campbell James Guild to our family this Spring. I wouldn’t want to begin my son’s social media history with a picture of his junk, but let’s just say it is definitely a boy. No question about it.