hab it!

The second baby round has definitely been called. In my first time mummy circles (there are two), the current count of babies no 2s is three, with one heavily pregnant and a few others somewhere between 20 and 30 weeks, and many more trying for no. 2. The 2 year gap seems to be popular, and so today's 2nd birthday party coincided with the first viewing of baby C just a stone throw away from the Cartside home.

Cubling was excited and definitely keen to see a baby. Nothing unusual there, she's always up for anything. She showed due interest for the baby, but also made sure birthday girl was treated appropriately (ok, maybe she shouldn't have helped her blow out the candle quite so much) - she even managed a "happy birthday Spot" directed at her and gave up the present rather than ripping it open herself.

Nothing quite prepared me for her reaction when, after plenty of toddler play and snuggling up to a big girl to get a story read, it was my turn to hold the one week old baby. First some mild display of jealousy (I'm used to that), then she came up, stroking his head, pointing to all facial features, hugging it, kissing it, hugging it about 20 more times, more stroking, asking it to wake up and get up, even to get dressed. Then, the big move. She tried to take the baby herself (and it looked scarily professional), and exclaimed with pure determination: "hab it! hab it!" Not quite believing my ears, I asked if she wanted to hold the baby. She nodded, "O.T." I explained that she was a bit wee for holding a baby. Crying ensued. Not of the furious kind, but with some real sadness in it. "baby home" she said. "Hab it mummy!" Some more prompting and it became clear that Cubling wants to take baby home for keeps. Baby C's mummy asked her if she maybe wanted a brother or sister. Cubling said yes to both options. Not fussy. Actually, just want baby C there, it'll do just fine.

On our way back, when I explained that maybe one day she'd have a baby to look after which would grow in mummy's tummy for quite some time just like the baby growing in her aunty's tummy (answered with general hilarity on Cubling's behalf, what a funny thought that babies live in mummies tummies, that surely must be a joke, even though aunty's tummy is rather big and Cubling couldn't resist giving it a right old tummy tap as she does to fat men in picture books), she turned and pointed back to where we came from: "baby, hab baby?!" followed by running off, back towards baby C's house.

No, not just yet sweetiepie.