Sugar and spice turns out to be a wonderful gift from God

I distinctly remember being in complete denial that I might be pregnant again nearly 7 1/2 years ago. It was right after the Christmas holidays, so clearly my weight gain was attributable to the time of year.

I already had a 12-year-old son and 9-month-old triplet boys. I popped birth control pills like breath mints because the last thing I needed was another boy. I remember the complete devastation I felt in finding out that I was in the 2 percent failure rate for birth control, and the utter disbelief and joy that my new baby was actually a girl.

Little did I know that sugar and spice would turn my life upside down. Just the other day, I told a mother at the baseball game that I would rather have 18 boys than another girl. At the car-pool line at school, one of the ladies who assist the children tagged us the "Just in Time Browns" because we're always pulling up right before the doors close. The other day, we were one of the first ones in line. She commented on how early we were.

"Maria's not here," I said.

I'm not certain if Maria, my 6-year-old princess, is such a challenge because she's my only girl or because she's my baby, but it's probably a combination of the two. With little boys, if you keep their hair cut short, you really don't have to brush their hair. Maria does not like to have her hair brushed, nor does she want it cut short. Since she doesn't have the option of being a complete mess, I watch her wince and listen to her whine, only to have her hair look like I didn't do anything with it an hour later. If I put it up in ponytails, by the end of the day, I'm asking her what she did with the cute bobbles. Who said girls were easier than boys until they reached the teenage years?

That's just the battle of the hair. Fortunately, my children go to a Catholic school and have to wear a uniform every day. I was completely floored when I grabbed one of her plaid smocks and she said, "I wore that one yesterday." Although I wasn't sure how she could tell since they are all exactly the same, I grabbed another one. My boys, on the other hand, will wear the exact same pair of pants for an entire week unless I make them put on a clean pair. When I do laundry, I ask Mike, my husband, how one little girl can possibly wear 18 pairs of underwear in a single week. Speaking of clothes, on the weekends, Maria and her girlfriend change their clothes every hour. Maria doesn't hang up the clothes that she didn't have time to get dirty; she either throws them in her hamper or right there on the floor. My boys, of course, wear the same thing all weekend, if they decide to wear anything more than a pair of shorts. So on laundry day, the amount of clothing that I wash for one little girl is about equal to that of my triplet boys.

My boys stay out of my clothes and my makeup. They never wear my shoes around the house. My boys don't think they should have my formal purses because they're "little like them." My boys don't wear my jewelry or use all my perfume. My boys don't lose my hairbrush. They don't think my bathroom should be theirs. But that little girl is only 6, and she won't stop taking my stuff. When my boys misbehave, Mike, my husband, is the staunch disciplinarian. When Maria misbehaves, he has a talk with her and threatens to spank her. Last night, Maria told me she was scared and wanted me to lie down with her. I watched her while she was falling asleep. I quietly told her that she was a gift from God, and I was absolutely crazy about her. She opened one eye and said, "I know. You always tell me that at night."

Lisa Brown is a Mount Pleasant working mother of five children ages 6-19. E-mail her at lbrown@postandcourier.com.