Babies

I often joke that Charlie has always been a fourth child begrudginingly stuck in an only child's body. He coos over babies. He oogles over toddlers. He falls effortlessly into friendships with any passing kid who will play. And just last night we found him on a friend's couch cradling a babydoll and poking at its eyes. "I'm giving the baby eyedrops," he explained. The poor child just wants a sibling...

That desire for a brother or sister - admist Mike's and my indecision to procreate for a second time - has materialized into an interest in all things baby. But most recently, his curiosity seems to be concentrated on the subject of where babies come from. And comedy, of course, ensues.

A few weeks ago, I picked Charlie up from school and on the drive home he asks, "Mommy, did you draw me?"

I was confused, "What do you mean, Baby, 'did I draw you'?"

"When you made me, did you draw me?" he continued.

"Ohhhhh!" I said, laughing at the sweetness of his curiosity. I gave my best explanation. "No, Baby. Mommy and Daddy made you, but we didn't draw you."

"Well. How did you and Daddy make me?" he pressed.

"Well, Daddy put you in Mommy's tummy and then you grew in there and nine months later I went to the hospital and had you!" I thought that had done it. I was able to answer the unanswerable with not too much detail and avoided lies about storks. Ever the case, I was impressed with my wise motherly explanation a little prematurely...

He wasn't satisfied. "But how did Daddy put me in your tummy?"

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!!! How do you answer that!? My brain wasn't quick enough! I couldn't think of anything but the truth and I wasn't about to tell him the whole truth! "Let's talk about that with Daddy a little later tonight when he gets home, ok?" Ahhh, there we go. I opted for delay and was relying on his four year old brain to forget to bring it back up.

"Ok," he said. "But... can I watch when you and Daddy make my baby brother?"