Mike and I finally told Mazzy about the baby. You'd think with my stomach looking like it's housing an award-winningly large watermelon, she would have caught on by now, but apprently, my daughter isn't nearly as bright as I gave her credit.

The news went over rather uneventfully. We asked Mazzy again if she wants a little sister. She said, no. And then we said, well, too bad because you are getting one.

Then she asked to play "Snake" which means we chase her making ssssssssss-ing sounds and she runs away screaming. It's basically the opposite of the low-energy games I was talking about yesterday.

About ten minutes later, after re-enacting a low-budget version of Anaconda grew incredibly boring for two of us, Mike and I tried a different line of questioning.

"Do you know what's in Mommy's tummy?"

Mazzy responded with great interest.

"Now I be the snake and you be scared. SSSsssssssssssss!!!!!!"

After five more minutes of half-assed screaming (I'm really nailing the J.Lo role!), we tried again. This time with a straight-ahead matter-of-fact approach.

"Mazzy. There's a baby in Mommy's tummy."

"A baby?"



"Let's stop playing for a second. There's a baby in my tummy. It's going to be your little sister."

"There's a baby in your tummy?"

"Yes." Thank god, she was finally getting it. 

"Can I see it?"

I pulled up my shirt.

"It's right there?" She pointed to my belly.


She stuck her finger in my belly button. "This is a baby?"


Then she pulled her shirt up and pointed to her belly button. "I have a baby?"

"No. Your belly button isn't a baby. The baby is inside my belly. You can't see it."

"Oh. Can I feed it?"


She pretended to fill something in her play kitchen, came back over and tipped a tea saucer directly into my navel.

I tried to play along. "She says thank you. She's full now."

"She didn't say thank you!"

"You're right. She didn't say thank you. But she is thinking it."


"Do you want to put your hand on my belly and see if you can feel her kick?"

"NO!!!! NO KICKING!!!!!!"

"Right, right. No kicking. Kicking is very bad. Never kick. Do you want to feel her move?"

"No. Let's play snake. Sssssssssss!!!!!! YOU BE SCARED!!!!"


And the moment was over.

That was about two weeks ago. Since then, I have been getting a big kick out of asking Mazzy what's in my tummy in front of other people.

"A BABY!!!" she shouts proudly, knowing she has the right answer.

Next, I ask my follow-up question. "Who is that baby going to be?" 

"MY SISTER!" she replies, like a well-trained dog.

Everybody laughs and smiles and all is right with the world.

Then Mazzy says, "Let me show you!" and tries to hike my shirt up over my bra and stick her fingers in my belly button and I wonder why I even bother to leave the house.

Yesterday there was finally a breakthrough. Mazzy and I were playing alone in the living room when she said something totally unprompted. 

"I have a present for the baby." 

"Really? What?"

She took off her beaded cat watch and placed it on top of my belly.


And with that one small gesture, my excitement grew tenfold at what's to come.