That's Incredible

"That's incredible!"

It started with that.  Impossible to believe, extraordinary, spectacular, magnificent, astounding, awe-inspiring.  Incredible was the perfect word.

There was jumping up and down and because he was really excited, he declared, "I'm gonna punch myself in the penis!"  And then he did and said, "Aggghh!"  It's super weird, but he's five and I guess his penis is the bee's knees, and pretend punching it is about as funny as it gets.  It's actually a high compliment.  I've come to understand this.

Then, it was puzzlement.

"Ok, but how will it get out of there?  Will you rip?  Show me where it will come from?"  And he gestured to my body like it was a map.  He needed a location.

"I don't want Mommy to rip," Charlie frowned, not understanding a whole lot of what was going on, but apparently horrified by this idea.

"No, I won't rip," I lied, "It will come from around here."  I gestured vaguely wanting to move on from this part of the conversation before it got anymore involved.

Then, he threw his head back and sobbed.  Big rolling tears came pouring down his cheeks.  Worry, concern, fear, sadness filled him up all at once.

"But now I won't be able to love Charlie anymore!  I won't be able to take care of Charlie because I'll have to take care of the baby!"

David answered through his own cloud of tears, "Oh, Finny.  Your love will just grow."

"But, I like our family.  I don't want it to change."

And immediately I began spewing examples of cousins, friends, family, everyone I could think of who welcomed a third baby into their family and how wonderful it was and how excited they were and how much they loved it.

He smiled.  Excited again.  And it went on like this.  Up and down between excitement and fear.  Wanting a picture of the tiny white bean in the black sac of the ultrasound picture. Not wanting it.  Loving it.  Fearing it.  All at once.

Now that he's processed it a bit, he's been nothing but excited.  He kisses my belly whenever the mood strikes and randomly announces to anyone who will listen, "There's a baby in my mommy's belly."  Proud.

I had to pick him up a few days ago to reach a tall public bathroom sink in order to wash his hands, and he knit his brow.

"Ok, but Mommy, I think this is one of the last times you should pick me up because I'm getting bigger and the baby is getting bigger and I don't want to hurt you."

Protective.  Loving.  My knight.

People ask me if they should think pink.  They ask me if we're hoping for a girl.  Maybe you'll be lucky and have a girl.  And wouldn't it be lovely to have one of each.

And wouldn't it be lovely to have another one of these?  A sweet boy, a prince.  A rough and tumble and soft and sensitive little boy.  Another one.  I have three boys in my life who wrestle and tackle each other, who pull each other's fingers and sword fight over the toilet, who shoot each other with fart guns and who think poopy and penis and butthead are some of the funniest words on the planet.

And I have three boys who cry when they watch Up, when Sulley says goodbye to Boo, when Mufasa gets trampled by the wildebeest.  Three boys who tell me I look like a princess whenever I put on a dress.  Three boys who love nothing more than a good snuggle on the couch and a good back scratch.

I have two boys, yes, and a girl would be something different.  But, so would another boy.  I have a Finny who is thoughtful and contemplative, wise beyond his years, spirited and emotional, sensitive and energetic, imaginative and artistic.  I have a Charlie who talks tough and makes mean faces, but who cries at the slightest reprimand, "Daddy, you yelled at me!"  A Charlie who can tell you when he's listening to Florence and the Machine or Michael Jackson or Mumford and Sons.  A Charlie who loves hats and costumes and wants me to call him Batgirl, Spidergirl, R T Do 2.

They wear me out.  But not because they're boys.  Because they're children.  So think pink or blue or whatever you want.  At the end of the summer, I'm gonna be somebody else's mommy and that, some might say, is nothing short of...incredible.