Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Extra Lucky

Overheard on the way to Home Depot:

Champ: "Mom, why do you have two boys?"

Me: "Because I'm lucky."

Champ: "Well, you're gonna be extra lucky, cause you're gonna have THREE boys!"

Oh, the sweetness of a 4 year old. Sometimes they really wow you with the wonderful things that they say. (Almost makes me feel guilty for the sarcastic intentions of my "I'm Lucky" remark.)

Champ is absolutely convinced that we're having a boy. He really won't even entertain the option that the baby might be a girl. When I commented later that I'll be lucky to have a baby girl too, because all babies are special and we're lucky to have them, Champ disagreed. However, I think that when the baby comes he'll be super happy no matter what it is. He's one of those kids with "baby joy", he sees them and gushes about how cute and little they are. Other moms think he's adorable and I hear all the time what a great big brother he is/will be. And I agree, Champ is a big sweetie.

Bear thinks we're having a girl, because naturally they must disagree about it. Although I don't think Bear really even understands what all this baby nonsense is about, and I'm a little nervous about his reaction when the time comes. There are probably a ton of books I can buy about it, but I'm really not that kinda mom. He's kind of waffling between being a big boy and being my baby. He still has that wonderful baby fat, which makes him completely irresistible, but he really wants to be a big boy too. He recently started potty training himself. Just hopped right on and pooped. It was a little shocking, and I'm not really giving it a lot of time. When he asks to go, we put him up there. I don't want to be one of those suckers who works for a year an a half on the potty training. I might not be giving my child what he "needs" but who really wants to spend their days cleaning underwear? I have enough laundry as it is...

But I digress. Baby fever is getting high around here, which is a little disconcerting because it is 3 and half months away yet, and I'm really not ready to be a mom to 3! And my husband turns an awful shade of pale green whenever I remind him of how far along I am. You'd think that would be something he could keep track of given my expansion... Funny story, he asked the nurse about contractions and when to bring me to the hospital at our last appointment. She was a little amused that he wanted to know so early (I'm only 23 weeks), but that's the kind of guy he is. He'll probably ask at every appointment we go to from now on. Meanwhile, I'm just getting fatter and more uncomfortable and even though I shouldn't, I can't help but freak out about weight gain. But that doesn't stop me from eating whatever I darn well please... bring on the spicy chicken wings!

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