Confusion

Call me Mother of the Year.

So far, the first couple of weeks of summer have gone well. Compared to this time last year, there is a distinct lack of temper tantrums and hitting. There is also a major disdain of Pull-Ups. Long may both of these last. We've been investigating new strawberries (once again, Peanut is chief Tester of Yumminess), riding our big boy bike, and attacking crayons.

I'm noticing a new questioning bent in my small son. "Why?" and "But Mommy" are heard rather frequently these days. No subject is safe, but one is particularly interesting and funny.

My belly is moving. And try as I might, I cannot explain this sufficently to Peanut.

Peanut (and his preschool teacher, family and various strangers) is aware that he is about to be a big brother. He has a standing invitation to feel the baby moving, and I've tried to talk about how the baby is growing without completely confusing or scarring my son. Right now, Peanut has one concern.

"But Mommy, I can't HEAR the baby!"

Now I'm confused. Hear the baby? Why are we concerned with that? If this one is anything like it's mother, I guarantee hearing the baby will be the least of my concerns. Then I put myself in my four-year-old's shoes. The babies Peanut hangs out with now are, well, outside of their mommies' tummies. You can touch them, see them, hear them. Peanut can do none of these things yet, and is perceptive enough to be worried.

My son is brilliant.

So I'm doing my level best to explain to Peanut that while we can't hear the baby now, we will in a few months. Meanwhile, we can tell the baby we love it. And feel it beating the daylights out of Mommy's insides. If this doesn't work, I'm calling for backup. Maybe Boomer has some ideas.

Call me Mother of the Year.