Last night we played outside for a little while before bedtime. Abigail was begging for someone to chase her, but Daddy said no because he was barefoot. So naturally she asked me, and I said, “No, Mommy doesn’t chase girls when she’s pregnant.” (Important here is the fact that I haven’t used that word to explain my condition, I’ve always just said that I had a new baby in my tummy.) She got a strange look on her face, looked me up and down, and exclaimed, “You’re not pregnant!” Laughing, I asked what she thought “pregnant” meant. She repeated, “You’re not pregnant! You’re not showing anything!” Really curious now, I asked again what she thought it meant. She said “It means you’re showing your belly.” Granted, immodesty, the term she was thinking of, does sometimes lead to pregnancy, and some pregnant people are immodest, but that doesn’t mean the two terms are interchangeable!
Then Catherine, who was all caught up in her game of giants and princesses and castles and such, all the sudden cried in the most dramatic voice a two-year-old could muster, “Oh, I’ve lost my magic brother!!” Again, laughing, and wanting to make sure Clay had heard her, I said, “Oh, Clay. Catherine has lost her magic brother!” She looked at me indignantly and said, “I am not Catherine. I am Princess Celery and I’ve lost my magic brother!” If you remember a few weeks back, Abigail was having trouble with the name Enchilada. And that, friends, is why our children get no input in naming new baby!