So, yesterday was a trip to the doctor and then the decision that it was okay to open our mouths. And we did:
No, Jason Momoa did not get me pregnant…but my husband, Momoa’s look-a-like, did.
Early morning, and I’m going to my friend’s house to drop some toy off my son pick-pocketed last time we were there, and her little four year old daughter greets me at the door with a gigantic hug. She really is the cutest little thing. So, while her mom is running around getting ready, I whisper to this tiny little person, “I’ve got a secret…I’m going to have a baby.”
-Sudden gasp and bright smile.- “You gonna have a baby? Oh yay!”
She got so excited, she immediately had me sit down so she could touch on my belly.
I think, Good. She grasps the concept. My kids are older. They should be even more excited.
Me: Guys, Mama is going to have a baby.
Monsters: -Blanks stares.-
Me: Do you understand? In the Spring, you guys will have a new baby sister or brother.
Girl Monster: Well, I think it will be a boy or a girl.
Boy Monster: -Starts wrestling with the Husband.-
Me: Hello?! Baby?!
Girl Monster: Can I have a snack?
Boy Monster: Yeah! Snack!
Here are the children who thought I was going to come home from my honeymoon with a baby in my arms, simply because we told them we weren’t having any babies until after we were married. No excitement. Nothing. They did throw on super happy faces for the potato chips I let them have.
I go to tuck them in bed, later that evening, and my son kisses me. He then grabs my shirt, pulls it up, and says,
We’re going to be just fine.