The Babyhater.

They say confession is good for the soul, so we'll confess it:

Our son is a babyhater.

When Bethany first was pregnant, Luke was still in the stage where he saw a baby and got a cute, sheepish smile--especially when Mommy was holding the baby. The mature, "Aw, ain't that cute," sort of look came over him.

Now he despises babies of all forms.

If he catches Mommy toting Timothy around on her hip, or giving Shealyn some love, or (heaven forbid) saying hi to Steven Haffly and touching his toes, Luke points at the forbidden scene and says in a whiny, concerned, almost panicked voice--with a furrow on his face--"NO DA DUM!" (No, thank you!)

Young babies are mommystealers. Kids his own age are both mommystealers and toystealers. Both categories of people share the top spot on his "bad" list. But ah, how Luke loves the Big Kids. They share their toys with him and couldn't care less about his mommy. Perfect.

So if our new little one is born 6 years old, Luke'll do just fine.

But if nature runs its course, Luke is in for a reeeeeal shock.

Poor little fellow.

Now for photos of The Babyhater in happy action:


Last Saturday was Sam's baby shower, which Sarah, Bethany, and Bethany's mom were hosting. So the men escaped to where all Good Men belong: the zoo. Poppy and Luke pose for a shot before going in to see all the critters.


The two Poppies with their Boys.


Meanwhile, back at the shower, everyone coming was supposed to dress up 9-months pregnant. It was hilarious to see a host of forms of pregnant bellies. Some were very lumpy (Kristen's squished-up towel), some very realistic (Bethany's mom's pillow with a marble for a protruding bellybutton), some hilarious (Sarah's stuffed lion), some see-through (Bethany's soccer ball).


Yes. See-through shirt, soccer-ball belly, real 5-months-pregnant belly underneath it all.


Lookin' GOOD.


One of the activities at the shower was to decorate a onesie with stencils (or no stencils, for the one really talented artist there, Corrie). It was fun to be able to put hands and creative brains to use, and nice that Sam didn't have be silently stared at the whole time she was opening presents. Plus, babies really go through those onesies. There's no such thing as too many!


The girl about to give birth to a lion with her sister about to give birth to Siena.


There's the lion girl again.


Cutest jacket EVER. Little-girl clothes are just so CUTE! Sam went home with piles of wonderful gifts. (The goal of every shower, let's face it.) We are getting excited for the new arrival! ("We" = everyone except Luke.)


When Bethany got home from the shower (and a post-shower nap at her parents' house), Richie showed Bethany the zoo pictures, and her heart melted at a series of shots showing Luke and Alexander tromping around hand in hand.




We are thrilled that Kristen, Dan, and Alexander are back in California, and only 20 minutes away! The boys, less than three months apart, will have each other for life. Pretty cool. Friends come and go, but family is family; and whether they like it or not, they're related... (This particular day they seemed to like it.)


We are trying to get our baby stuff resurfaced to ease Luke into a host of new things to get used to. Too much transition all at once is not too fun. For anyone. No matter what the age. So Mr. Moses got pulled out, and Luke had a grand ole time lounging in the bed of his youth.


"Honey, look at your son!" So Bethany whirled around and found her little monkey atop the frig eating his morning banana.


Luke is a boy who gets very easily frustrated. (If you haven't come to that profound realization already.) When he gets hurt, for example, if there are people around, it's like he's totally embarrassed and very angry at himself. He will run off screaming--not from pain, but from being so upset that he did something so stupid. So here he throws a tantrum on his bus, because Daddy's socks that he originally asked to have put on, he no longer wanted on; and he couldn't get them off--so he squinched up that little face and moaned with frustration.


After a hot afternoon playing at the park, we came inside and refreshed ourselves with snacks and sparkling water (which Luke calls "bubbles"). Bethany was trying to get stuff done while Luke was occupied, but kept hearing Luke call out, "POOL! POOL! POOL!" in a deep husky voice. She wondered what in the world he meant by that. What, during snack time, could make him think of going to the pool? So she went to look. Luke was dropping his Teddy Puffs in his sparkling water one by one, so they could swim. His water was the pool, his teddy-bear crackers the swimmers, and his face the proudest little face you ever saw. He still drank that "pool" and went cross-eyed as he tried to watch his teddy bears "swim" while he was at it.


Luke has become very aware of his bodily functions and will often tell us if he needs to use the facilities (in more base sort of language, like "pee pee" or "poo poo"). So we bought a couple different potties, and this one is the winner.


One morning Luke disappeared from sight in this mansion of ours. He had driven his bus to the bathroom, hopped on his new bathroom stool, and placed the potty seat on the toilet. He looked up like he thought he was doing something naughty. But no. Mommy was very proud.


This week Luke got to help Mommy make some dessert. First step: destroying a pack of graham crackers. He stared at her as she crushed them, seemingly appalled to see destruction come out of a mother. But as he observed her face, he realized this was approved destruction, so he wanted to join in the fun too.


Luke didn't help with too much of the graham-cracker crushing. Peek-a-booing was more fun.


More baby preparation: Getting Luke a new car seat, so Baby can use his smaller one. We currently have it in our living room for him to play in so he can get used to it and hopefully see it as something pretty neat-o. For this particular lounge in the car seat, Luke wanted his duck with him. Look at the eyes!


Pretty neat-o, alright.


And the car seat got fully initiated into Life With a Toddler when Luke dumped his bag of cereal into it.


Caught.


Pursuing the next step of the naughtiness he had planned, despite the fact that Daddy is watching. Probably worth the risk, Luke figured.


One night Luke wanted to eat dinner wrapped in his duck towel. Sure, why not.


Eating two bowls of Cheerios! Returning to the food of his youth. It was a novelty.


Sharing his wagon with Timothy and Elizabeth, Luke gets the mushpot. Do you ever try to put yourselves into toddlers' shoes? Do you ever wonder if we expect more from our children than we demand of ourselves? The wagon scene pictured here, for instance, would be like two of Bethany's friends hopping in her red Volvo to drive it, with her tied to the roof. In the worst spot of the car, but insisting on somehow being involved in the joy-ride. (Luke did actually like it, though, and it sure made for a cute photo op. Thanks, Gilda!)

And friends' stealing toys (totally precious possessions) would be like someone coming into your house and, without asking, getting out your laptop and messing around with it. Or if it's a really special toy, it's like someone borrowing your driver's license or social-security card or family photo album for a little while. Unthinkable. Toystealing is not just toystealing; it is stealing the things that are most special to you in your life.

And as for mommystealing in toddlers' eyes? I'd imagine it's right up there with watching your most beloved one ignore you and instead watching them give some lovin' to someone else whom you see as your Competition. The betrayal!

So if all Luke does is get pretty grumpy about it, and say "No thank you," things are okay, I guess. I have a hunch I'd act a whole lot worse. (Putting ourselves in his position really does help us understand his bad moods; although we'll still make a valiant effort to teach him good manners, the joy of generosity, and the horrors of babyhating.)

(And since confession is good for the soul, here's a confession of profound hypocrisy: Even if you ask nicely, I'll refuse to let you borrow my social-security card. And don't even think about stealing my Beloved One, holding him a while, and giving him a smooch...)