My pregnancy evoked an interesting development in our house today, one I guess that was to be expected but, at the same time, one that I was not really thinking I’d be exploring this particular Sunday.
Please to read my conversation with my son:
“Mummy? Is the baby in your tummy?”, Vince asked as he walked deliberately towards me.
“Yes Sweetie, the baby is in my tummy”, I responded absent-mindedly.
“Is it in your bottom tummy, here?” he asked as he patted my lower stomach area, “Or is it up here”, he continued as he patted higher up on my tummy.
“The baby is all in here, all around”, I responded, rubbing my belly in a circular motion. I was totally engrossed in rereading ‘The Host’ by Stephanie Meyer and not really paying much attention.
“If the baby is in here, then what is this Mummy?” Vince asked as he inquisitively patted my breasts.
Well, that got my attention. And I actually put down my nook. AND I made a face.
Because really, I had no idea where to go with this one. I glanced over at Edward, who was in the kitchen making some much needed coffee. He got in late last night and from the looks of it REALLY REALLY needed to drink that coffee before I involved him in anything like this.
While I was stalling, Vince kept going:
“What are they Mummy? Are they elephants?? Are they teddy bears? Are they giraffes?
Good lord, he thought he was funny. And I kept having to swipe little hands off my chest, where they were apparently planning on parking for the day.
I looked over at Edward: “A little help please?! What did you want to call these?
He mouthed “Fun bags” at me with a smirky grin. Ass. Clearly the coffee had done it’s trick. And clearly I was hitting this one solo.
“Well, they are Mummy’s… ahhh… boobies…”, I said with a wince. Saying that sentence out-loud made me feel like the lamest, oldest, lame-o ever in the history of lame. Geez-us. And while I was saying that word out-loud, I looked over at Edward who was making a disapproving face at me. He apparently did not approve of my word choice.
But that was ok, because V said “Your Boo-boos?” and I leapt on it like it was a raft and I was drowning.
“Yes!!! Booboos!” Probably I didn’t need to shout it so loudly. And then the moment passed, he stopped touching my chest and the morning progressed…
Holy touch and go Batman!
And I think we are going to leave them as ‘booboos’ for the time being. Easier, no? I am quite aware that this subject will come up again. Actually, I am surprised that this is the first time we’ve had to address it. I might need to get one of those age appropriate sex books. Or something. Gah. Can’t he stay ignorant forever? I don’t really need to tell him about this kind of stuff, right?
I think I’ll just sweep it under the rug for the time being… K? Shhh, don’t tell…
5 responses to “Sex and the toddler”
Well, you know we’ll talk about this @ work tomorrow… HAHAHAHAHA
When i put on my bra in the morning Daniel has to poke my “boobies”, then when i’m putting on my shirt he waves and says bye bye booies
Well sweet ladies…
This is the most important relationship going…
Mother and Son.
Father and Daughter.
It will influence everything to come. (no pressure!)
It gets worse. Thats all I can say. The other night were all super snuggly, piled 4 deep in Codys full size bed to tuck him in for the night. Out of nowhere (as innocent as can be, and I’m not even kidding) “Mommy, why can’t I say cock? It just means the same thing as weiner, doesn’t it?” Shocked an appalled (and holding back a giggle), I had to know where my angel had heard this word.
School. Friends. Someone apparently had gotten in trouble for saying it at school, and he “figured he shouldn’t say it either,” but wanted to find out why. I couldn’t be mad at him, because he genuinly didn’t know it was such a filthy word, but my goodness.
He is aware that he is only to say that word in reference to a rooster from this point on. 😉
Oh my gosh that gave me such a giggle. Ha!!! Oh the fun I’m in for. I’ll be thinking about this all day 🙂