The Bombshell

(originally posted on 1/24/2007)
The Bombshell Question
People ask you all kinds of questions when you are pregnant:
"How are you feeling?""Do you want a girl or a boy?""Are you going back to work?""How far along?""How's the sleeping/stretch marks/weight gain/sonograms going?"
And so on... I have a little routine of answering questions: I try to smile and be demure and say the types of things people want to hear so they don't get all pissed off (see blog archives). Typically I throw in something gross but funny and they usually stop asking questions ("I've been so constipated, I get excited when I have a BM!"). I am becoming quite an expert on pregnancy, and feel very comfortable answering all of the questions.
Except from my 4 year old stepson.
Ash stayed home with me yesterday. Hubs got up and went to work early, but I was very tired and couldn't get myself out of bed until 8:30. So Ash came and layed with me until I got up. We talked a little but mostly watched TV. I was flipping through the guide and I saw that "A Baby Story" was on, so I turned it over to, you know, see how it's all done. Well, it couldn't have been a more inappropriate time to turn the channel, because the lady on the screen was obviously giving birth to a small cow and wasn't utilizing any wonderful, dreamy, numbing pharmaceuticals. She was screaming and heaving and everyone was yelling "PUSH THAT BABY OUT!" I quickly turned the channel and turned to look at Ash and he was pale as a ghost. I only left it on there for about 20 seconds, but it was enough time for Ash to get an eyefull of pain. So then the questions started:
"Why was that lady screaming?" uhh, because it hurt (*cringe*). let's watch scooby doo..."Why does the baby hurt her" uhh, it just does... come on, you want some candy?"How does the baby get out of her tummy?"
Shit! I felt it coming. I had a good idea what to say but the kid is smart... he can smell lies.
well, God just makes it happen. it is a miracle.He wasn't buying it. He saw something on that TV that defied his vision of God.
"But how does it get out? does she just push it through her skin? Is that why it hurts?"
Dammit! I don't know what to say... I am panicking...
let's call dad and ask him... (no answer)
So I called my mom: Hey mom... how do I handle this?Mom: tell him that God makes it happen.Me: Yeah, that didn't work.
Crap. He is following me around the house and keeps asking: "How does the baby get out? Where does it get out from? etc." My typical question defense isn't working... I need a distraction. Something! Candy and cartoons failed, how about Playdough? I am an OCD clean freak and Playdough is the arch nemesis of clean, but it might just work... (all the while in the background he's asking questions, chasing me from room to room)
And then the absolute bombshell question I have been anticipating:
"How did the baby get in your tummy?"
Anything to get out of answering this question: Wanna play with Playdough? On the carpet? With paint and glitter?
Jeeeeezzz....