Yesterday I had every intention of writing a post about time management but wouldn’t you know it, I caught up with other things and totally missed the boat. I was going to rectify that today. That was until my wife and I went to the doctor’s this morning for the ultrasound.

We’ve been waiting for this moment for months. Well, years really. Ever since we found out she was pregnant we couldn’t wait to discover who was in there. After the last physical, we’ve had this anatomy check appointment hanging over our heads for so long it felt like it would never arrive. We’ve gone over every contingency and while it feels like there are an abundant amount of scenarios here, in actuality it looks more like something Mendel could chart with peas.

Two boys. Two girls. Or one of each.

Naturally, me with only brothers and her with an only sister, the thought of something outside of our comfort zone was pretty intimidating. We’ve both been hoping for one of each. A best of both worlds scenario. Something we know – at least theoretically – how to handle and it gives us an excuse to straddle both worlds. She loves Disney. I love comic books. Nothing is too-boy or too-girl.

The ultrasound tech asked us if we wanted to know the genders before we began. Of course we did! But for whatever reason in the heat of the moment, saying we’re just too damn excited didn’t sound like a legitimate excuse. I think I said something along the lines of, “Well, we want to know for planning purposes, you know. Can they share stuff? Do we buy just one of each item or can they double up?” or something equally bland along those lines.

It was an anatomy check so the tech went through piece by piece making sure our babies’ spines, kidney and hearts were all in the right sizes and places. It was an enormous relief knowing that it was in fact two humans in there and not a puppy and a dinosaur as I like to answer whenever people ask me “What do you think it’ll be?”. But as the limbs got counted, I was getting more and more anxious to find out who these little critters are.

Baby A?

Boy. I’m having a son.

Then the tech started the process all over again. By the time I had feebly wrapped my mind around what the news of Baby A meant it was on to B.

Four limbs … accurately-sized organs … and the tech stops right at Baby B and says, “Well, it looks like you’re gonna have to buy one of everything.”

I may not remember the tech’s name, but that’s a line my kids are going to be sick of hearing me say.