Just a few of the dolls I was able to locate easily. There are a bunch more sitting out in the garage.
So next time my mom forgets my birthday yet again, I'll just remind myself that she shows her love in other ways. Like in the form of Thai Barbie or South African Barbie... Venezuelan Barbie or Russian Barbie! Irish Barbie, Kenyan Barbie, Mexican Barbie... or one of the many Native American Barbies I have.
Anyways, there's a point to all this and the point is this...
I won't be playing Barbie United Nations or Barbie Olympics anytime soon.
That's right. We'll be welcoming another boy into our family. I've had a few days to let it sink in and I can finally share the news without blubbering. Upon finding out, I spent the first five minutes crying, so the ultrasound tech was kind enough to spend 40 minutes making sure that we were looking at a penis and not just an umbilical cord.
There's no denying it, we're having a boy.
Who knows if anyone will ever actually play with all my pristine, international Barbies. For now I'm joining the Mom-of-Three-Boys Club, a club I wanted no part of. But I'm holding out hope... and holding onto my collection.