Kids do NOT possess this.

Mrs. V., Ane’s teacher, told me when I picked her up at school yesterday, that she had told her classmates how “her baby brother is coming.” Mrs. V. is well aware of what my due date is, and told me how excited Ane was.

Then Ane ran up to me, all breathless, and said, “Mommy! Where’s the baby?”

I pointed at my middle.

Ane was stunned.

After we were in the car and driving home, I learned the reason for her shock. She burst into tears and cried, “YOU TOLD ME THE BABY WOULD BE BORN IN MARCH! TODAY IS MARCH!!!”

Ever get the feeling that you want to slam your head on the steering wheel until the world makes sense again?

Explaining to Ane that March is an entire month, not just one date, was not an easy task. And frankly, she didn’t believe me. When I told her that Rerun could come at any time, but that his due date is two weeks away, she wailed, “Two weeks is a MILE away!!”

Okay, apparently we need to work on the concept of distance, as well.

Ane was in a foul mood for a good portion of the rest of the day, but a phone call to Grandma (who had offered to talk with her) did help. They spent a half hour on the phone hammering out questions that Ane had, addressing some of her fears about who will watch her and Tad when I am at the hospital, and the all-important question… WHEN?

I talked more with Ane later, but our conversation got diverted into “how come I don’t get my own way?” territory.

Which is a whole different ballgame.

I’m good if Rerun stays put for a little bit longer. I still have things I’m working on, and he’s quite portable right now. The Webmaster is finishing up some big stuff at work, and the longer he has to work out details, the better his vacation time will be. Tad, as usual, is indifferently happy and oblivious. Ane is really the only one chomping at the bit to get this party started.

I wonder if she truly realizes how much of a “party” this will really be for all of us.

Rerun is definitely going to be a March baby. We’ve made it to March!

Last night, I turned Ane’s Princess calendar to March (she went from Sleeping Beauty to Belle). “In the morning is March?” she asked excitedly.

“Yes. The baby will be born sometime this month.”

“WHEN??? TOMORROW???”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s up to the baby and God. I don’t get much say in it.”

Her grumpy “I hate waiting” face appeared. “This is taking FOREVER. When will the baby decide??”

“I don’t know,” I replied, kissing her forehead good night. “Why did YOU decide to be four days late?”

Left with that unanswerable question to ponder over, I said good night. If she comes up with a good answer, I’ll be sure to blog about it.

I draw the line at plumber’s crack.

It was okay if Ane’s jeans were a smidgen short at the ankles. When she started having to be told constantly – through no fault of her own – to keep hitching up her jeans, I knew it was time to go clothes shopping.

As part of my continuing to prepare for Rerun’s arrival – and even though the Webmaster plans to be at home for a couple of weeks following his arrival – I’ve been making sure that Ane and Tad have all sorts of miscellaneous items that only a mom would be capable of keeping track of.

New tennis shoes for each kid? Check.

Easter outfits for each of them? Check.

A couple of months’ supply of vitamins, especially Tad’s? Check.

Shampoo and conditioner? Check.

Ane’s mouthwash? Check.

New jeans for Ane? Check (she’s now wearing a 6X – she started the school year in size 6).

Change out Tad’s size 3 hoodies for his size 4 hoodies? Check (his limbs have been growing some, too).

Just because my world is going to stop for a little bit to give birth doesn’t mean that theirs does, too. They will both still be in school (though Tad will have a week off at the end of March for conferences), and they will still have Cubbies and Sparks and Sunday school and all of their regular activities. This isn’t like it used to be. When Tad was born, Ane was only 19 1/2 months old and could be bought off an hour at a time with Sesame Street. Now, I have two kids in school – schools with very regular schedules (Tad 4 days a week, Ane 5 days a week) – and very structured activities.

Gone are the days of bribing with TV for just an extra hour of sleep in the morning. Now there are buses to catch, homework to do, snacks to take to school, and bedtimes to keep.

And in the midst of all of this, a newborn is going to come in and need a schedule of his very own. Feeding times. Doctor’s appointments every few months. Quiet for naps. More feeding times.

I just hope that between my planner in my purse, the family calendar on the refrigerator, and my own brain, I can keep everything straight and not end up completely fried in the first month or two.

One can hope, anyway.

Because we’re growing as a family, and nothing’s going to stop that now.

We bought our minivan when Tad was just shy of a year old, so we’ve never had an infant car seat in there before. Since the minivan is our primary family vehicle, that’s obviously where it’s going to be. Since Tad still rides in a 5-point harness car seat (not that he truly needs it, but it sure does strap him down – he does ride in a booster when needing to travel in other cars) which we don’t plan on removing anytime soon, Ane will be moving (in her booster) to the back seat. Permanently. Rerun will then have her spot, which is right by a door.

This was not welcome news to Ane. It’s one thing to sit there when we’re taking other kids places with us, and she has a friend to chat or play with. It’s another thing entirely to be by yourself in the back.

She protested about this. “But why can’t the baby be back there?!?”

“Because we have to be able to get to the infant carrier, and it’s easier to do that when it is right by a door.”

“But I don’t WANT to sit back there!”

I sighed. We were in the car while this conversation was ongoing. “Ane, you have two choices. Either you can be a helper to Mommy, and sit in the backseat with a happy heart, or you can complain about it and sit in the backseat with a grumpy heart. Either way, you are moving to the backseat. It is up to YOU what YOUR attitude will be about it.”

She was tired – we were on our way home, and naps were imminent. “I don’t know which to choose!!” she wailed dramatically.

“Choose wisely,” I told her.

Ane thought about it some more. “I guess I’ll be happy about it,” she said in the world’s grumpiest voice.

I thanked her politely, and tried not to laugh out loud.