It’s baby time around here.
Momma’s due date for “Number Two” was this past Sunday. So, as you can guess, we’re on pins and needles here. At any moment my life could turn into one of those Hollywood give-birth-to-a-baby-in-the-back-of-a-speeding-Ferrari-while-mobsters-fire-tommy-guns-from-motorcycles scenes. Or who knows, we could get trapped in an elevator, sitcom-style, forcing me to deliver my newborn son in the most comical fashion possible. (I’m thinking it’ll involve me losing my glasses. That’s always funny.) Regardless of how it all goes down, however, the arrival of my newborn son is going to be NUTS.
She couldn’t give a shit.
Momma and I have been talking about Baby Brother for months now. Pretty much since the moment she started showing. We’d get Audrey to rub Momma’s belly, talk to it, etc. We looked at Audrey’s baby photos. We also purchased books on the subject. Good ones. With good values. And she likes them, too. She seems to understand the concept of Baby Brother and that they exist…
She just doesn’t give a shit.
For example, yesterday we were at a friend’s house. It was a spur of the moment sort of thing, made easier by the fact that they have a swimming pool. These friends of ours–nice people, all of them–have a boy a bit younger than Audrey and a newborn son of about ten weeks. I hadn’t really had a ton of exposure to infants since Audrey’s birth two-and-a-half years ago, so I felt like I needed to practice. I rocked the baby, bobbed on my heels, did the shushing thing and all that. Took a bit to remember each of those acts, mind you, but they came back. Other than the fact that it also brought back the memory that I’m absolutely terrible at burping little babies, it was a good experience. Huzzah.
I tried to include Audrey too. I called her over to see the guy. I asked her questions about him. I did everything possible to encourage her to interact with this child save handcuffing her to his wrist.
And she just couldn’t give a shit. Sigh.
So what to do? It seems like we’ve done everything possible to get her mind wrapped around the concept of another baby in the house. She’s just not getting it. It’s still an abstract concept to her. It’s not real. Like it or not, this kid is coming though. Maybe in the middle of typing this piece, or five minutes after I fall asleep. We just don’t know. And that’s stressful. The only way to deal with the stress, however, is to prepare for what’s coming. A big part of that is Audrey. She’s not likely to be pleased with not being Top Banana around here anymore. So if she doesn’t give a shit now…
She will soon.
That’s for certain.