Wednesday, September 17, 2008

holy gestation batman

Wee Man had a baby today. He had more than one baby, truth be told. Actually, he had the same baby about eighteen different times today. And the statistical oddity, aside from the fact that Wee Man having a baby defies all statistics (exception: this guy), is that the baby was born breech and naturally all eighteen times.

Don't hurt yourself trying to figure that out.

Wee Man sticks the baby, called Sweets or Fewicity, depending on the direction the wind is blowing and whether or not he's been to the potty recently, I am totally making this up...

He sticks the baby up his shirt, head-first, and then bends and crams the poor thing until the entire babe is covered by shirt. Sometimes a leg sticks out, sometimes the head pops out the neck hole I can totally relate to what that must feel like. Miss O rode so high when I was pregnant with her I was afraid to burp. Except I can't actually burp. Probably should have included that little tidbit in my six quirks. I absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, belch. I can't even FAKE BURP.

The Mister says it's because I'm that much a lady.

I am confident he is mocking me.

Go ahead, ask him. He'll tell you he is. We aren't afraid to mock. With Love. We mock with love. You know you do it, too. You just probably don't call it mocking.

Anyway. Where was I? Right. Wee Man's gestating like mad.

As I tucked him into bed tonight, he was snuggled down with Beloved, his blanket-lovey, and Sweets. Or maybe it was Fewicity. I can't keep it, er, her name straight.

Wait, Mama. I have to put my baby in my bewwy.

Ummm, buddy, is that going to be comfy to sleep with a baby in your tummy?

Yes. It is. Ach, the indignance of it all.

Okay, well, sleep tight.

Twenty minutes later, cue Wee Man crying.

What's wrong?

Dis baby in my belly. It's in da way of my sweeping. (That's sleeping for all of you who don't have a three year-old.)

Maybe the baby is ready to come out of your belly?

Yeah, she is. Her name is Fewicity, and Sis is going to be her mom. And I going to be the dad.

And we? Are an American Family. Or something.


  1. Maybe he'll remember the discomfort and be extra supportive of his wife later on? Here's hoping.

    And don't you wish you could just say "oh, it's not comfy! Time to come out now, little one!"

  2. hahaha, that's priceless, Hayden told me that there was Sea Lions in the toilet today (yes he would be refering to the "kids he had just dropped off at the pool"

    the kicker, we were in the bathroom at the library and yes there was another person in there!!!!

  3. Oh, I miss those days of a three year old's vocabulary!

  4. CutiePieDimpleHead has been using the toilet lately. He tells me by saying "Cow. Potty. Big Cow!!!"

    And when he is finished, he hops right off to examine his cows.

    I close my eyes tight and hold my breath so's I don't barf, and tell him what a good boy he is.

  5. lol..

    my mother loves to share with people just how far i've come with regards to birth.. from natural hospital birth to home birth... but more importantly, starting out birthing through the neck of my shirt as a child.

    not so far fetched, i dicovered.. feeling like my 9.5lb first child might just crawl out of my 5'2" frame through my throat by the end of my pregnancy!

  6. That reminds me of when you were breastfeeding Wee-Man and Miss O would sit by you on the couch... nursing Larry the Cucumber.


talk to me, people. because you know i get all giddy when you do.