So, truth be told, (and my friends know this all too well), I would NEVER have a third child, unless I could produce a dancing pink ballerina. With pink Burberry dresses. And pig tails. Or braids. Did I mention pink? I would NEVER get pregnant to have a third boy. This would actually necessitate my husband putting me in a loony bin. “Honey, just don’t forget to pack my Ipod!”