From the mouths of babes

The funny thing about little kids is how they process their world. I constantly find myself listening to my little observer, thinking "I need to write down these things because they're priceless". For example, Gillian is convinced she is also pregnant. Here is why.

About three weeks ago, she was inspecting my breasts, as she is wont to do on occasion to say hello (and oftimes request I leave them with her while I go do X, which is usually an excuse for me to get up to not be groped anymore), she noticed my belly button was completely out. To this, she asked her favorite question, "What happened, Mama? What happened to your bellybutton?". I explained to her that sometimes when a baby gets bigger and bigger, a woman's belly button gets pushed so much from the inside that it pops and sticks out. Gillian, who has always had the cutest of outies, then inspected her own belly and made the rational conclusion that she, too, must have a baby in her tummy getting bigger and bigger, because her belly button "popped out to the sky like a rocket, Mama!" This morning, during our morning snuggle time, she lifted her shirt, pulled the top of her diaper away and said "look, Mama! the baby is moving!!" (ok, this clearly came from me...my child is a parrot!). Then she snuggled with "our baby" and laid her head on my stomach and talked and sang to her baby sister (who began moving around in response).

She is also currently fascinated with Tums, and with my taking them for the heartburn that has already begun (we're only 21 weeks!). Tonight she told me that she will pretend to take one too, since "[her] belly is getting bigger and bigger because of the baby, and it is making [her] tummy upset".

She continues telling stories of Events That Never Happened, such as the fine tale (with intimate details) of how she drove to the store today to buy cookies, or how a mouse got lost and had to find his family in a castle (a creative patchwork of several storylines of Little Einsteins mixed together), or about how she and Monika (Anna's daughter, who is in school and is hardly ever here) chased the cat and the cat "bit [them] both on the eyes" and they had to go to the doctor in an ambulance. I should write these down every day, but I don't. Gillian does not lack the Gift of Gab.

You might also be interested to know that her vagina continues to yawn, regularly. I have no idea where that came from, but I love it.