Sunday, October 28, 2007

Time for those tough questions

As a parent, I dread when the time comes for the "talk." You know, about the birds and the bees. I hope that I'll be able to handle it maturely and honestly without causing too much embarrassment for either party. Bubba has had a few questions already and we've tried to call spade a spade -- or a penis a penis as the case may be. BUT, I think you have to give them the information that they're ready for, information that they can process and handle without freaking them out too much.

So that's why, last December, when we were reading a story about Mary and Joseph and Bubba piped up with "How do babies get out of your tummy?" I was a little panicked. How much is he ready for? How much am I ready for?

"Let's finish the story and then we'll talk about it."


And fortunately by the time we finished the story, he had forgotten all about it, which had been my plan all along. Bwah ha ha ha.

By the time the question came up again a few weeks later, I was ready for him. I had been thinking about what I would say the next time.

"Mommy, how do babies get out of your tummy?"

"Well, Bubba. I had what is called a c-section and they cut you out with a knife." I said (while sending up a silent prayer of thanksgiving for c-sections!)


And that was it. For a LONG time.

The other night as we were getting out of the tub Bubba asked, completely out of the blue, "How do the babies get knives inside your tummy?"

WHA? "What are you talking about, Bubba?"

"How do the babies get knives inside your tummy to cut themselves out?"

"Ohhhh." Everything clicked into place. "The babies don't have knives. The doctor has a knife and he cuts the baby out. Do you want to see the scar that I have where the doctor cut to pull you and Punkin' out?"

"Mmm hmmm." I carefully pulled down my sweatpants to expose the scar. He looked in horrified fascination.

"What was I doing in there?" he asked.

"You were all balled up in a tiny little ball."

He got a devilish gleam in his eye and he laughed and said "Was I playing with your GUTS?" Only little boys.....


Lauren said...

hahahahaahh!! That's hilarious. Isn't it funny how their little minds can twist things around?

Im at the hospital...Sunday night waiting around. Shouldn't have any activity until tomorrow at lunch. Hopefully my internet connection will hold out...

1blueshi1 said...

hahaha! my two can each point out their scars on my body. Zac was an emergency section and he left me a nice thick ropy scar from right below my navel to right above my pubic navel. I mean that thing is SEX-AAAAY (she intoned bitterly. with extra bitterness.) by contrast my nice little bikini scar from Bookey's planned & scheduled c-section birth is barely detectable. Gah. Such is life. How could we have predicted such ravages to our beautiful, gorgeously perky teenaged selves with the thighs that didn't rub together?
Of course, if we HAD, the human race would die out verrry quickly.

Laurel said...

boys, boys, boys...Mine punched me in my guts the other day. Does that count as the same thing?

el-e-e said...

Awww. How sweet.

"Guts" is such a little boy word. :) Love it.

Esme said...

"Was I playing with your guts..." That is the BEST!

Lulu said...

That's so cute! I swear, when you talk about Bubba, all that I can picture is the dancing video that you posted a while back. He's a scream...

Colleen said...

Okay, I am finally catching up on my blog-reading. :)

I LOVE that story! That is hysterical!

We told Gavin that I had to go to the hospital and the doctors would help his baby brother out of my tummy. I'm not sure what we'll tell him if he demands more details at some point. I hope I won't freak and just turn on some birthing video...LOL!