Baby-waiting

There is a giant metaphorical tarp of excitement and anticipation which sprawls across the western suburbs with one corner at our house, another at my mom’s house, another at my dad’s house, and since I guess I need a fourth corner, another at the hospital…where my nephew will FINALLY be born today.  I suppose the hospital corner is feeling nervousness and exhaustion more than excitement and anticipation, not only because that is where the labor and delivery will occur, but also because Rachel and Jim have already been at the hospital for two nights to try to get this baby out of my sister.

We (the girls and I) went to visit them yesterday to help them pass the time.  Ellen had a few conversational gems worth noting:

Ellen (yelling directly into Rachel’s belly at point blank range): Charlie come OUT!  We want to MEET you! 

Rachel: There are a lot of people he needs to meet.  Can you think of some?

E: Me. 

R: Yes. 

E: You.  Uncle Jimmie. 

R: Yes.  Anybody else? 

E:  Hmm.  Don’t say Piper because Piper’s dead.  [The death curiosity continues; yesterday’s conversations included a query about what dead people look like, and if they’re “flat.”]

R: Three important people…

E: Bryn, Scout and Anya!!!

R: That’s right, because they are Charlie’s-

E: BIG SISTERS!!

R: Do you like being a big sister?

E (thoughtfully): Well, sometimes it wastes time from my art [she is an artist; if we suggest that she might go to school someday to learn about art or to become an artist when she grows up, her retort is that she doesn’t need to because she is ALREADY an artist], and also it’s hard because my trains are allergic to babies.  [This isn’t a new idea – if Cecilia gets too close to her trains, Ellen will start “sneezing” and yell “Mom, get my sister away!  My trains are allergic to babies!  Do ya hear them sneezing?”]

I’m guessing that when Charlie arrives, the trains will meet him without sneezing, which seems contradictory.  Maybe babies are hypo-allergenic until they become mobile.