Wednesday, February 20, 2013

But I can't hear a baby crying

I thought I'd update about my daughter.  Shortly after that shocking incident on the street, I gave it some deep thought about why she was acting out.  Saving you my long train of thought, I came to the realization that she was reacting to the change of atmosphere in the house.  She may not have known with the change was, but she knew something was different.  The last time she acted out so strongly was when there was a murder-suicide a few houses up in October and the street was a mess of cops and looky-loos and media.  Oh the constant media attention the surviving wife craved.  Crazy, I know, since I live in a very nice upper middle class neighbourhood.  Only this time my daughter was reacting to my stress about the baby.

I had put my son to bed for nap and sat with her on her bed.  I asked her if she liked being a good big sister to her brother.  She said she's a very good big sister.  I asked her if she wanted to be a big sister to another baby.  She looked confused, so I patted my tummy and told her there is a baby in there.  Her eyes got bigger than saucers, and she quickly put her head on my tummy.  "But I can't hear a baby crying," she said.  I showed her with my fingers how big the baby was at the time.  She thought a baby that small was cuuuute.  I also showed her my latest ultrasound.  She finally understood.  I explained how the baby was making mommy feel sicky and sleepy, but that I would be feeling better soon.  She asked if the baby was making me nap in her bed.  Smart kid.

These days, she's talking about the baby all the time.  Though she is saying some disturbing things.  Like when I was lifting her to her time out spot on the stairs she started kicking at me.  I told her she can't kick, and that if she kicked the baby it might get hurt.  Various other times she's used my new baby bump to push herself off of my when she's done cuddling.  I warn her to be safety around my belly.  Very unfortunately, she interpreted that as making the baby dead.  I never said those words, but she knows how small the baby is, and she knows she can't kick or squish it.  I guess I can't stop her from putting that together.  I am now, however, regretting the damn gold fish that died.  I can't hide death from her, but I did tell her to stop talking about the baby being dead.  Especially in case something does happen.  I wouldn't want her to internalize that.

My daughter is acting a lot better.  She seems to have a much better grasp at what's going on around here now, and where I go when I leave her with the sitter for my appointments.  She now says she hopes it's a girl for her because she already has a brother.  She told me I can have another baby later to give Bubba a brother if he wants one.  What a nut!

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