When Peanut gets upset or frustrated, he often kicks or hits. This results in timeouts and a frustrated Mommy who yells. He kicked my stomach as I was trying to settle his squirmy, bouncy, loud, and overtired self into bed. I lost it and yelled at him. He rolled over onto Daddy’s pillow, buried his face, and sniffled “I sad because you yell at me.” My not-so-stellar response was that he could be sad all he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that he kicked me and KICKING IS BAD.

Hubby came into the room and told Peanut why it was so bad to kick Mommy in the tummy: because Mommy has a baby in there.

The gears whirred. Peanut sat up in bed.

“You eat the baby?”

“No, I didn’t eat the baby.”

“Open your mouf. It’s dark. Turn on da light so I can see.”

“You can’t see the baby that way.”

“Do I have baby in my tummy? Daddy have baby in his tummy?”

“No, sweetie, only Mommies can have babies. And the baby isn’t in my tummy, it’s in a special place called my uterus.”

Now he’s all about “his” baby. He talks to and hugs my tummy. He really wants to see the baby, but I’ve tried to explain that it will be a long time before the baby is big enough to be born.

I hope he’ll be such a sweet boy when the baby arrives.

I’m praying this will be an uncomplicated term pregnancy.