“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.”

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

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?”

“Yes.”

“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?”

“Ours.”

“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…

I told him that I was staying put on the couch through the half-time show, then I’d sit with him while he bathed.

Bored by the game and the commercials, regardless of our trying to involve him, he said, “No.  I want to take my bath now.”

“Well, then head on up and run your own bath water,” I said.

“No,” he said, seriously, as if taking his bath solo were actually an option.  “Then you’ll be alone with Daddy down here.”

“And, you don’t want me alone with Daddy?”

He nodded.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

I know that his possessiveness is age-appropriate, but also that his reaction is a sign that my husband and I aren’t spending enough time together as a couple. 

We’ve got to make that a priority before our baby boy, now 29 weeks in utero, arrives, which, because of my placenta previa, could be any time between now and my April 23 due date.  After all, when my son was born five years ago, I wasn’t able to separate from him for 3 1/2 months–and, even then, I cried when I got home because I missed him so much. 

So, we need to bank ample alone time ASAP.