"Let Me Help You With That"

Annie and I were watching something on TLC or the Discovery channel or something similar, that was profiling preemies. We discussed that our baby wouldn't be that small and wouldn't need any of the tubes or the incubator if he's born when he's supposed to be born, and not early like the babies on TV. Annie was concerned about the babies she was seeing, and asked if they would be OK. We talked about how the doctors are usually able to help babies who are born really early and that start out so small. Annie still seemed a bit distressed, so I explained that her own best friend, Sarajayne, had been born a whole nine weeks early, and had been really teeny tiny, but how she's perfectly fine and just like Annie and any other three and a half year old now. Annie was finally OK with it, seemed to no longer be as concerned about the babies on the television, and I thought we'd reached the end of subject on this one . . .

Until the next day, when Sarajayne was over playing with Annie on the swings, and I suddenly hear Annie say, in her sweetest maternal voice, "Oh Sarajayne, since you were really tiny and almost died as a baby, I'll come push you on the swing!"

New rule for Annie: No more telling your friends they nearly died. It could make for awkward phone calls I'll have to have with their Mom's later on, when they go home and tell their Mom that you informed them they almost died.

(I preemptively told Sarajayne's Mom about the conversation -- just in case her three year old came home distraught upon finding out she'd nearly died and had never known it. Fortunately Sarajayne seemed fairly unaffected by the news.)