Conversations with Baby-To-Be

As I progress week by week in this journey called pregnancy, I find myself reading up on the developmental stages of the kid. It's amazing how fast it has grown, and will continue to grow in such a short amount of time. According to the experts, it can now hear and feel outside stimuli. It can basically experience what I experience, only on a much smaller (and quieter) level. So it can hear our voices, it can feel our touch (when Big Dave pokes at the belly), and it has preferences as to food and drink choice.

As interesting as this may be, this is where some problems come into play. Because what I want is not necessarily what the kid wants, and vice versa. Come breakfast time, the kid demands orange juice. Problem: orange juice gives me heartburn. But kid doesn't rest until OJ is forthcoming. Result: I suffer heartburn for a few hours.

So, being the logical and rational person that I am (stop that snickering, please), I decided to try to reason with the kid. I talk to it. I try to make it see my side of the story. I explain calmly and carefully the reasons behind my decision. A typical conversation goes something like this:

ME: Hey, you. We need to talk. (I either poke or rub the belly as I talk)
KID: (KICK)
ME: I know you are wanting some ice cream, but right now I think we need to eat some fresh fruit. It's healthier for us. We need the vitamins and nutrients.
KID: (HARDER KICK)
ME: In order for you to grow stronger and healthier, we need to eat good food. Ice cream is not good food.
KID: Stillness, at first, then (PUNCH).
ME: You can be mad all you like, but we will not eat ice cream. How about a nice apple instead?
KID: (HARD KICK TO TENDER STRETCHING MUSCLES)
ME: That's not a very nice thing to do to Mommy. Stop that.
KID: (HARD PUNCH)
ME: I mean it. If you don't settle down, you'll never get ice cream again.
KID: Movement stops.

I eat the apple, but all the while feel kicks, punches and otherwise distracting movement from the kid. After a couple of hours of constant movement, I give up.

ME: Ok, if I give you some ice cream, will you let me have some peace and quiet?
KID: (Quiet as a church mouse)
ME: And you promise to remain quiet for several hours? No kicking, no punching, just quiet?
KID (Silence)
ME: All right, I will eat ONE scoop of ice cream. One scoop for at least 2-3 hours of quiet time. That's the deal. Agreed?
KID: (One small, barely felt punch)

There is no doubt in my mind -- this kid is all me.

Poor Big Dave.