Bombs Away

Many women I call or contact now-a-days start the conversation not with a casual hello, but with the serious inquiry, "are you in labor?" These words contain all the excitement of a child at Christmas. Don't worry, ladies, I'll be sure to announce my incredible labor pains to those that need to hear it. I'm glad you're all so ready for me to get hurt. ;)

On a more serious note, my brother in law (Mike) made me think of a question I hadn't yet pondered. How will Tucker be as a brother?

Currently, Tucker is a dream yearling. His tantrums are laughable at the best of times and he's only mildly frustrating once a week. All in all, he's just too darn happy for me to take him seriously. As I write this post, he's happily sitting in the kitchen, playing with one of his few toys. There have been days where I've taken a nap and been awakened to a hearty tackle from my ginger (or strawberry blonde, as many are now insisting) boy.

I imagine he'll be pretty confused and frustrated with our new baby boy to start. There will be many tears as I teach him to not touch the baby swing, gouge out his little brother's eyes, or just get snappy at him because I'm tired and can't help it. My guess is, after Tucker learns the baby's limitations, that he'll want to play with him and be helpful. I just don't see jealousy being a trait in his siblinghood. Then again, I could be terribly wrong. That's the fun of making a guess now.

As for the fetus's name... I have no idea. Russell is a name that David and I have both agreed on, but neither of us love. David says he doesn't want to have a drawn out discussion about names, so we're both compiling lists and will compare them the day of the baby's birth. It's lame and frustrating, but I suppose I should let David have his way some of the time.