It's getting worse. My longing for a girl baby, that is. One day I think maybe I'm getting over it and then - bam! - something happens that brings it back again.

My neice, who will be 3 in August, came to visit this past weekend. She is an only, her parents work more than full-time, and she has a very structured life. She is very quiet and very good. For the purposes of this blog I will call her "Miss A."

My sister got a little anxious when we let my younger son, Little J, loose around Miss A. Miss A was also a little anxious. My son is naturally exuberent and silly and a little uncontrolled and tends to bowl people over when he gets excited - literally, as if they are bowling pins.

But he didn't do this to Miss A. He realized that she needed a gentle touch. By the end of their visit they were good friends, hiding under the tent they made on the dining room table and giggling. "I am having fun at Little J's house!" Miss A announced. That made me feel good.

But it also made me want one of her kind for my own. My husband says if we adopt a girl we'll get one just like Little J. Then I'll really have too much to handle. But I don't know. I don't believe him. Anyway, Little J is a very unique individual, and if we got a second child like him it wouldn't be terrible - it would just be really noisy, messy, and all our furniture would be broken (!)

That might just send me off the deep end.

But that's his natural pessimissm at work. I am a natural optimist, and I choose to believe that even if we adopt a girl and she's not a quiet, gentle, sweet type, then she'll be a curious, smart, and opinionated type, like her mom, or an active, joyful, and empathetic type, like her Aunt H, or maybe even a girl who likes to go on hikes and do home repairs and take pictures, like her dad. Or an exuberent, affectionate, talkative type, like her big brother, Little J.

It's all in how you word it.