In the middle of toddler swimming class this morning, while splashing and kicking and practicing getting her nose, chin, and ears wet, Julia turned toward the teacher, looked at her seriously, and squealed apropos of nothing, "Mama's tummy bigger bigger BIGGER BIGGER!!!!!" It's one of her newly favorite pronouncements. The way her voice gets higher and louder with every "bigger" is the most hilarious part. Also, she finishes the refrain by stretching both arms straight up in the air in joy, or amazement, eyes as wide as dinner plates. It's clear she's never seen a more amazing phenomenon than this one. Every day: Mama's belly bigger, bigger, bigger! You've got to wonder what she's making of it all. I mean, obviously we try our best to teach her the most basic facts of what is going on, and we mention when we can that before too long, the new baby will come out and--listen up, here, girlie--SHE WILL CRY AND NURSE A LOT. A WHOLE LOT. ALL THE TIME, IN FACT, JUST LIKE YOU DID. GET USED TO THE IDEA NOW.
But, you know, she just has no idea, naturally. She's not yet done being a baby herself, nor should she be, at only 25 months old. Too little for fireworks, too little to stay up until ten. Asleep in her bed last night with her blankie and her kitty, dreaming of sunshine and baby swimming lessons while the neighbors fizzled sparklers on the street out front.
The real fireworks, of course, will happen at the end of August, when a wailing little interloper will appear on the scene, full of a lot more spark and fizzle than any old discount-tent sparklers.