Our twins are curious like George, recite facts like the kid from Jerry McGuire, and ask questions like Super Why, but so far we’ve been lucky enough to escape inquiries about babies. Like, say, where they come from.
We had a close call about six months ago when Anne wanted to know how babies got out of their mommies’ tummies, and I simply told her, “Well, the mommy pushes them out. And if that doesn’t work for some reason, the doctor can make a small cut like he did with Mommy, and then take the baby out through the mommy’s stomach.”
And that was that.
But this past weekend, I was driving the twins to a birthday party, when, out of the blue, two blocks from our destination, Anne piped up with, “Mommy? Um, so, when God made grown ups, um … well, how did he make the babies?”
Oh shit oh shit oh shit I do not want to have this conversation in a car! They’ll go right into the party and tell everybody!
“Well,” I began, only to be interrupted by Grant.
“It’s like that time I flushed the whole pack of wipes down the toilet! Do you remember that? When the water went everywhere and Daddy had to get that special thing to pull them all out of there? How old was I when I did that, Mommy?”
“Um, three? Four?”
“Yes! I remember!” Anne squealed. “That was so funny!”
And then, by the grace of God, we arrived at the birthday party. All talk of babies forgotten.
Later that night, I recounted the story to Mark. When I got to Anne’s question, he said, “Yep. And that’s the part where you go, ‘Look! SQUIRREL!’”
“What?”
“If they ask again, you just shout ‘Look! SQUIRREL!’ or maybe ‘Hey! A COW!’”
“Right. But the thing is, I didn’t even have to do that. Grant kind of did it for me.” I then explained about the complete non-sequitur that was the toilet and the wipes.
“But you know,” I said, “we’re going to have to explain it eventually. And I’d rather them learn about how babies are made from us instead of hearing talk in the bathroom at school.”
We’re a family that believes in using proper anatomical names for things, so I could see Mark cringing and mentally planning a work trip for whenever the need for this conversation should arise.
I, meanwhile, was thinking that when our next credit card statement arrives in the mail, I know exactly what to say.
“Look! SQUIRREL!”
Can I send Felix down for that chat?
I’m all for education and terminology, but man that’s a tricky minefield.
Sure, if you want me to point out a bunch of squirrels.
Seriously, I know we’ll have to talk about the birds and the bees (why do they say that?) but so not looking forward to it.
Ha ha ha! I JUST had the whole how do the babies come out from my 4.5 year-old yesterday…she was not satisfied with my explanation (similar to yours) and wanted to know EXACTLY where in your body they come out. When I told her, she said, “EWWWWW, that is SO gross! I wish I was a boy like Daddy so I didn’t have to have babies!”
I am DREADING the official conversation about how they get in there! The look Squirrel is a great way to go!
Oh, I remember this so well! My son bought the “there was so much love between Mommy and Daddy that it made you” for quite a while. One day he approached me and said, “Mom. I’m beyond the whole so much love makes a baby. I’m old enough to know the truth.” I’m thinking he was hearing other versions now that he was in school. I asked if he was SURE he was ready to which he replied, “Yes.” Okay then…and he got the truth complete with correct anatomical terms. “Oh NO…no…no. I’m NOT doing that…EVER.” I asked how I would become a grandmother and he replied without skipping a beat, “Adoption.” Thank God he walked out of my room so I could fall on the floor laughing.
And to end the story, he is now 23 and a fabulous father. Apparently, he got over the “ick” factor.
I’ve actually taken to keeping both a Batman & a Tinkerbelle figurine in my pocket at all times, when I’m alone with my kids . . . this way, should they start going on about something that I just can’t deal with – *violla* have fun!