I Don’t Like Babies in Bellies

Tonight, as my 5-year-old son and I talked before he fell asleep, I asked him if his classmate Charlie’s mom has had her baby yet.

“No, but today’s the due date,” he said, with the authority of an adult.

He then announced, “I don’t like babies in bellies. They don’t play with anybody. They’re just inside, alone.”


He continued, “I bet they want to come out to discover grown-ups.”

He paused, then asked, “Do you know what the word ‘discover’ means?”


“It means babies want to stare at grown-ups with their eyes. Is that what ‘discover’ means?” he asked, questioning himself.

“Yes. Discovering means learning about something, and we can discover by seeing, by hearing, by touching. There are lots of ways to learn about something, including staring.”

“I bet our baby will want to see our house—because it’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking full credit for the beauty of our home.

“Except for the holes,” he stated. Our house was built in 1927 and has several holes, primarily in corners, near the floor. “The holes aren’t beautiful; they’re dark. I’m afraid of the dark.”

“Yes, our house is old, so it does have some holes.”

Completely changing the subject, he said, “The baby might want to sleep with us.” Then he asked, “When is the baby coming?”

“Our baby or Charlie’s?”


“Well, he’s due in two months.”

“Two poopy months?”

“No, two diarrhea months,” I deadpanned.

Unable to stop giggling, he struggled to ask, “Two diarrhea months? Did you say that to make me laugh?”

“Yes, potty mouth. Yes, I did.”

Little boys and their potty mouths… Growing up with four younger brothers and now serving as stepmom to two teenage boys and mom to a 5-year-old son, I’ve had to adapt. Soon—in two poopy and/or diarrhea months or less—I’ll have another son with the potential to be a potty mouth, but I’ve learned to appreciate boyness. So I can’t wait.

And neither can my 5-year-old son. Babies in bellies are boring…

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