Um, Yikes!
My children are clueless.
I mean, when it comes to uncomfortable information about our bodies, what things are called, and what they do.
Little Meems is especially blissfully unaware, although we're stepping into the advanced world of elementary school and, more importantly, what they learn on the bus. Right now, the Kindergartners are somewhat protected from the big kids, sitting up front. Sweet, innocent, naive...
This won't last long, and I'm afraid of the touchy conversations coming up. I might actually have to EXPLAIN to her what happens to ladies when they become, well, ladies. And give her some basics in female anatomy, utilizing correct terminology.
Cringe.
My sons, however, have had head-on collisions with some of these delicate issues of late. My oldest is 8; they youngest is 4. The 8-year-old found a tampon in my purse, held it upright in front of his face for further inspection, and said, "what in the world is THIS thing?"
At the doctor's office. In the waiting room, which, of course, was packed.
I stumbled upon my other son's introduction to tampons the other day. I found some pieces of wrapper on the floor of my bathroom, but didn't think much about it, considering I had just emptied the trash can. Later, as I helped Little Meems fill the tub for her bath, I noticed full-sized wrappers in the trash can in the kids' bathroom. I called the little one to come see. With big eyes and bent head, he lead me to where the contents of those wrappers were hiding...behind the cushions of the big chair in the family room. With Buzz Lightyear.
Turns out, they make excellent rocket ships, and Buzz IS trying to return to the Intergalactic Alliance in the Gamma Quadrant of Sector 4.
You might think that I was presented with excellent teaching moments for my children that I should have utilized. Us moms are always looking for those! But no. To one son I explained that a lady's purse is her private area, and to the other I explained that he just needed to stay out of mommy's bathroom.
I'll get to that lesson some other day. Hopefully in the far, far, way-off future.
To infinity, and beyond!
I mean, when it comes to uncomfortable information about our bodies, what things are called, and what they do.
Little Meems is especially blissfully unaware, although we're stepping into the advanced world of elementary school and, more importantly, what they learn on the bus. Right now, the Kindergartners are somewhat protected from the big kids, sitting up front. Sweet, innocent, naive...
This won't last long, and I'm afraid of the touchy conversations coming up. I might actually have to EXPLAIN to her what happens to ladies when they become, well, ladies. And give her some basics in female anatomy, utilizing correct terminology.
Cringe.
My sons, however, have had head-on collisions with some of these delicate issues of late. My oldest is 8; they youngest is 4. The 8-year-old found a tampon in my purse, held it upright in front of his face for further inspection, and said, "what in the world is THIS thing?"
At the doctor's office. In the waiting room, which, of course, was packed.
I stumbled upon my other son's introduction to tampons the other day. I found some pieces of wrapper on the floor of my bathroom, but didn't think much about it, considering I had just emptied the trash can. Later, as I helped Little Meems fill the tub for her bath, I noticed full-sized wrappers in the trash can in the kids' bathroom. I called the little one to come see. With big eyes and bent head, he lead me to where the contents of those wrappers were hiding...behind the cushions of the big chair in the family room. With Buzz Lightyear.
Turns out, they make excellent rocket ships, and Buzz IS trying to return to the Intergalactic Alliance in the Gamma Quadrant of Sector 4.
You might think that I was presented with excellent teaching moments for my children that I should have utilized. Us moms are always looking for those! But no. To one son I explained that a lady's purse is her private area, and to the other I explained that he just needed to stay out of mommy's bathroom.
I'll get to that lesson some other day. Hopefully in the far, far, way-off future.
To infinity, and beyond!
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