Belly Button Bingo

February 25, 2010 at 9:37 pm | Posted in Bun, Lollipop | 11 Comments

Lollipop is convinced of a few things:

  1. Bun likes to eat the enchiladas in my tummy. He does not like the tomatoes.
  2. He has some diapers in there somewhere. Because he is a baby and babies need diapers.
  3. My belly button is the looking glass through which to observe him.

It’s this last one that gets me.

Warning: No-Fly Zone
I have a thing about my belly button. It’s like how some people can’t stand the smell of tuna or the taste of cilantro. Or the sound of squeaky Styrofoam.

I have nothing against it, exactly. I appreciate the purpose it served when I was a wee zygote. But I cannot wear pants where the waistline hits that high. I cannot let my seat belt touch it. I cannot carry a bag of groceries in the front. Ew. Ick. Gross.

Weird, I know. What can I say? It’s a thing I have.

Are You There, Bun? It’s Me, Lollipop.
But every time Lollipop asks a question about Bun, she insists on poking and prodding around my belly button. Peering in with one eye for a glimpse of his little waterworld. Sticking her finger in (without warning) and turning it like a Phillips-head, as if to unscrew the womb lid. Pushing with her poky little pointer finger, to see if he’ll poke back.

Ew. Ick. Gross. Except it’s adorable.

I mean, she gets it. (Even though, clearly, a few details have gotten lost in translation. Mainly, the one wherein my belly button is not a baby-viewing window, per se.) But she understands there is a baby in there. That he is growing. That one day soon he’ll be big enough to come out and play. Or steal her Super Readers.

Pushing Buttons
She was too young to get this stuff when Giggles was born. She was happily oblivious to the concept of “little brother” and “sharing” and “he hit me first.” Now, of course, she knows. She is an expert big sister. No tricks. Unless she’s the one playing them.

And she’s excited and curious and pleased anyway.

So I let her poke, prod, push. It takes superhuman control. I squeeze my eyes shut. Clench my fists. And probably have no enamel left on my teeth. Occasionally, I flinch. Cringe. Pull away. Can’t control this belly button thing.

I tell her Bun made me do it — he is her little brother. Sure, he may not be born yet, but he’s certainly old enough to torment his big sister. He learned it in the womb after all.



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  1. Will it scare you if I say I get it? I get it…and I totally can’t take when my kiddos poke it:O

  2. I totally get it too. I always feel like the skin is either thinner there, or it could explode… I don’t know, I also think it makes a weird noise when rubbed. Like nails on a chalk board or something! Ha!

  3. Too funny! I can just picture Lollipop……aw, so sweet!

  4. I can’t relate to the belly button phobia, but I love how creative Lollipop is!

  5. Luckily I don’t suffer from a belly button thing because my little guys are all over my belly, tickling and talking to and slobbering on their little sister inside.

    I am one of those people who abhor the taste of cilantro though, a little bit in salsa is okay, but as an ingredient in any food that is warm or heated . . . I can barely stand to think about it.

  6. This is hilarious! My sister has the same thing with her belly button. I like to torture her still (you don’t outgrow that) and go for a poke. I will feel bad for her when she gets pregnant and all the weirdness surfaces.

  7. That is so funny!
    I’m the same way, I HATE my belly button to be touched. I tell my husband that it hurts, and he thinks I’m just being dramatic. Seriously though, I really think it hurts!

  8. I HATE having my belly button touched! Especially now that it’s headed in the opposite direction, it appears to have a magnetic pull for tiny two year old fingers and I freak out!

  9. That last item on the list? LOVE it.

  10. Evan used to zrrbrrt my belly with Corinne inside. And then he’d read her stories (though he was only 3). It was absolutely adorable and absolutely annoying. I have a great picture of him slobbering all over my stomach…

  11. I am COMPLETELY with you on the belly button thing. I cannot bear having it poked, rubbed, or irritated in any way. Being pregnant was hell for me – all those people who want to randomly RUB YOUR STOMACH (WTH is that?). Even reading this post made me shudder.

    Thanks for Rewinding at the Fibro! 🙂

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