So I have been trying to figure out how to write this post. Slight comedy gold, with some added oh my God you can't make this stuff up...and tons of embarassment. Trouble is, I don't know where to begin. Also? It requires me to shed some light on some of my less than stellar parenting.
What am I waiting for right?
Here we go.
The boys are kind of obsessed lately with exactly where babies come out from (mommy's belly is no longer sufficient), how they get there to begin with and just how girls do their business shall we say? Having three friends 'get new babies' in their houses over the last year in addition to two of their aunts currently pregnant has made that a constant topic for them. And the other... well that is my fault entirely.
From the time the boys were small I called their you know what (that's right, I'm not saying the word) a Peep. CLEARLY I was not thinking ahead, because when introduced to these marshmallow delights they laughed hysterically.
A few months ago they started wondering if Mommy had a peep. When I told them girls do not have peeps, I inadvertantly opened Pandora's Box. These sweet boys have become obsessed. And even tried unsuccessfully to pants me once. Trust. I have told Al that since we ended up with all boys it is HIS job to give them all the 'talks'. You know, if we had girls it would be me... but we don't. So tag you are it! And he has managed to dodge that bullet time and time again.
Over the weekend we were at 'Old Maybe' (Old Navy). Going by the women's section I watched one of my children (who I will not name) walk by one of the 'pretend people' (mannequins) dressed in summer clothes,
when he then backed up and stopped. In just a split second that child lifted the shirt up just a bit and tried to undo the shorts to see what was there. I nearly died on the spot. Al scooped him up over his shoulder and off we went.
And here is where the parenting gets even better. Yesterday the boys were downstairs to clean their toys in the basement, only to come upstairs to show me a picture the three of them drew. That's me. With a peep. Apparently. And a bunch of other things I can't identify, but they did point out the peep for me. (Also, not what you think it looks like.)
Oh hell no was all I could scream - in my head. I sent it off to Al with a message to bring me home a bottle of wine and it was time that he had the talk with the boys, however scaled down it needed to be, but he was having a chat with them.
So he comes home and tells me to leave the room for a boys chat so as not to embarass them. (I think he meant him, but whatever.) I went to the kitchen where I could still hear everything of course. Not only did he not cover where babies come from, he didn't use any proper terms. As I was tweeting him that he was copping out (because we are all digital like that), he proceeded to tell the boys that girls do not have peeps and it was time to stop asking to see them.
You know the boys asked what girls had.
My husband said 'I don't know, but its not a peep. When I find out what it is I will let you know.'
I died. It was at that point that I should have just yelled it out, but I couldn't do it either. The closest you will hear me say is va jay-jay and I'm not teaching them that one either. But you see it isn't my fault because this job is not actually MINE! If I have to live in a house with 4 boys at the very least I should be able to escape these kinds of talks.
The boys turned it into a discussion over unfairness. You see mine I should see yours. Its not FAIR that Mommy has seen us without clothes...and so on. Oh yes. I am soooo lucky. Lucky lucky lucky. Someone please tell me where kids this small come up with this sort of stuff when the only TV they watch ususally involves Nick Jr and Disney XD. As far as I can tell this isn't a topic of conversation with their little friends (dear lord it better not be).
Or is this what happens in a house full of boys. I have no idea. I just know that I need some help. Like a book or something (with pictures) to take care of this FOR me. I want my kids to be able to come to me about anything as they are growing up, and know that we can have an honest discussion. So WHY is starting here so hard. And why are we starting here at six years old and under...
Somebody get me a book damn it!!!