Her Mother’s Daughter

Drama Queen, mischievously:  Mom, you know what makes you such a great mom?

LadyBug, warily:  What’s that?

DQ, grinning:  A kid like me.

LB, giggling:  You know what makes you full of baloney?

DQ, checkmating:  A mom like you.

Two days. Two significant blows to the ego.

Yesterday:

The Drama Queen:  Mom, when you were a little girl, did people think no one would ever go to the moon?

LadyBug:  [Drama Queen]!  Man landed on the moon before I was even born!

DQ:  Oooookaaaaayyyy!  Geez, sorry, I didn’t know!

~ ~ ~

Today, in the car, Elvis Presley’s “Hound Dog” comes on the radio:

DQ:  Mom, when was Elvis around?

LB:  A long time ago, baby.  I think he died the year I was born.*

DQ:  Oh, so it was, like, the 1700s??

LB:  ! ! !

~ ~ ~

*Note:  I was wrong on that fact.  Elvis died in 1977, three years after I was born.  But, still.  The freaking 1700s??

Recent conversation at the LadyBug house

LadyBug [to The Drama Queen and Miss Attitude]:  Would you girls pick up the living room for me, real quick, please?

The Drama Queen [expressing shock, dismay and omigod-itude, all in one word]:  WHAT?!?!

LB [speaking slowly and exaggeratedly]:  I said. would. you girls. pick up. the living room. for me. please?  Do we need to go to the doctor and have your hearing checked?

TDQ:  MOOO-OOOM!

LB:  That was a question.  Do we need to have your hearing checked?

TDQ:  MOM!

LB:  Well…did you hear what I said the first time I said it?

TDQ:  MOOOOOOM!

LB:  Did. you. hear. what. I. said. the first. time?

TDQ:  Yes!

LB:  Then why did you say, “WHAT?!?!”

TDQ:  MOOO-OOOM, you KNOW that’s what I always say when I don’t wanna do it!

LB:  Ah-ha!

And now for something completely different*

Miss Attitude: Watch, Mom.  Henry can play fetch!

Miss A throws Henry’s stuffed frog.  Henry runs to it, then rolls around in the floor as he plays with it.

LadyBug: Yeah, I see…but…umm…”fetch” usually means that the dog brings the toy back.

Miss Attitude: Yeah.  I guess Henry is just playing “Go get the toy and stay there.”

*different from all the recent whining, anyway

I wonder if Letterman’s looking for a new writer?

The Drama Queen told me an original joke this morning. It’s not the first joke she’s made up, but it’s the first one to combine two important qualities: (1) it makes sense, and (2) it’s funny. (Well, funny to a third-grader and her mama, anyway.)

What would a puppy be if you shaved a little bit of hair off of him?

Words of Wisdom

The Drama Queen: Mom, I know something you should always remember.

LadyBug [wondering what important life lesson her daughter is getting ready to share]: What’s that?

The Drama Queen: NEVER ask what hot dogs are made out of.

. . .

Well, yes, I suppose that IS good advice.

Her Mother’s Daughter

Deputy Dad (teasing): You wanna knuckle sandwich?

Miss Attitude (grinning slyly): No, I’m not hungry for a knuckle sandwich.

Why is it called “the birds and the bees”, anyway?

I talked to the girls about s-e-x last night.

I kept thinking they’re too young for a discussion of that nature, but kalki’s comment on this post at Susie’s place made me realize I was probably underestimating my daughters.

Kalki’s comment said, in part:

My mom had a series of Christian-based sex education books that she’d read with me. But she always read and discussed them with me a few years after the series recommended for each particular book. She presented them when she felt I was mature enough for them, but she was way off and could (should?) have stuck to the ages on the books, which were conservative enough already.

I, too, have a couple of Christian-based sex education books¹.  The first one, recommended for ages 3-5, I read to the girls when I was pregnant with Big Boy. (They were 5 & 7.) It discussed proper names for male and female genitalia, the fact that the baby grows in the mother’s womb…just basic, general stuff.

The second book in the series, recommended for ages 5-8, actually uses the s-e-x word, and tells, in plain, basic language, what happens to boy/girl bodies as they grow, and what sex is, including what parts go where.

I think, maybe, the reason Kalki’s mom and I waited so long to break out the books is because, as you’ve probably already concluded from reading this far, it’s just damned uncomfortable to talk to your little girls about sex. It’s probably not that way for every parent….but we never talked about sex when I was growing up. I remember ONE discussion with my mother - about menstruation. Then she waited until I was, oh, fifteen or sixteen, I think, and made my step-father give me the “sex talk.” It was the single most embarrassing and humiliating moment of my life. I never heard a word he said, because the voices in my head were screaming so loudly for him to JUST. STOP. talking about my body. ICK. *shudder*

BUT. I know the girls are gonna hear about sex, and I’d rather they get the FACTS from me. I wasn’t surprised to learn that they both had a pre-conceived notion of what sex was.

Miss Attitude (almost 7 yrs): “It’s when somebody prisses around and, like, thinks she’s all that.”

The Drama Queen (8 yrs): “It’s, like, kissing and stuff.”

We read the first book again, as a refresher course, as well as a chance for mom to practice not dying of embarrassment when forced to say the “v” and “p” words out loud, in front of her children. Then we moved on to the second book.

I can’t tell you how proud I am of the way I held my shit together. I was so worried - afraid, really - that I’d either giggle like an embarrassed schoolgirl, or stutter and stammer the whole way through. I did neither…well, except that one time. But I’ll explain that later.

In true LadyBug fashion, here’s a list of the high (and low) -lights.

• My biggest worry was making it through the page where the, umm, location and proper usage of parts was discussed. (Hey, give me a break here. In addition to still being a little embarrassed, I’m trying to keep the Google pervs away.) I did surprisingly well, even slowing down, to make sure the girls heard what it said.
• Kalki was right. The girls were absolutely ready for that discussion. They listened intently, asked questions, and did very little embarrassed giggling (except for that one time). They even thanked me for talking about it, when I tucked them into bed.
• Miss Attitude got upset - seriously, crying - about the prospect of childbirth. (”I don’t want to grow up, because having a baby hurts.”) It’s my fault. She ASKED if it hurt. I said “Yeah, it hurts.” She said, “Does it hurt more than a shot?” I’ve given birth three times, all without an epidural. So my natural, honest, forgetting-I-was-talking-to-my-six-year-old-daughter response was, “Oh, YEAH. It hurts A LOT more than a shot.”
  Cue weeping.
  As I was trying to console her with, “Oh, Baby, that’s not something you have to worry about for a very long time.” and “Sweetie, they have medicines that can help it not hurt so much.”, The Drama Queen was the True Comforter. She immediately calmed Miss Attitude’s hysterics and chanting of “I don’t WANT to have a baby” with “Then just don’t have sex.”
  Ah, yes. Problem solved. And now I can say we’ve had our first discussion about birth control. “Just don’t have sex.” (Abstinence. What a wonderful concept.)
• I seriously can’t express enough how proud I am that I held it together during question-and-answer-time, especially in the face of questions like: “But WHY does the man’s p*nis just…you know…just [making hand gestures] stick out like that?” and “But what does it mean when it says ‘the man fits his p*nis into the woman’s v*gina?’” (Still trying to deter the Google bots.) and, my personal favorite: “Well, what I wanna know is this…Have you and Daddy done that??“
• That one time: It was during the question-and-answer phase. It went something like this:Miss Attitude: But why…why do people sometimes not be together anymore and they get divorced?LadyBug: Well…

  MA: [cutting me off] Oh! I know! It’s because they don’t do that sex stuff all that much anymore!

  LadyBug: [collapsing into fits of giggles. Chest-heaving, gasping-for-air laughter.]

  I couldn’t help it. It was so damned funny. And she had no idea how close to the truth she was.

  Of course, the girls started laughing ’cause I was laughing. We must’ve sat there for a good five minutes, just laughing and giggling, and shushing each other, trying not to wake Big Boy.

So. To sum up: Sex talk. Done. Well, not done really. We’ll discuss it again, bringing it up from time to time, to make sure they keep the facts straight, and answer any questions that come up along the way.

And (*sigh*) we still have to have the menstruation talk. That wasn’t discussed at all in the book. Probably because it woulda scared the holy bejeezus out of the boys. And who could blame them, especially after they’ve watched their daddies run screaming from the room whenever a Tampax commercial comes on?

* * * *

¹Please don’t feel the need to bash me for using books. These books are aimed at children, and I felt they’d be a good jumping-off point for a frank, open discussion. It’s not like I just read the books to them and then said, “Okay! Time for bed now!”

Blueberries, Part II

Along with blueberries, I bought strawberries and Cool Whip, thinking since it was Independence Day weekend, I’d make a simple, festive dessert. I layered blueberries/Cool Whip/sliced strawberries/Cool Whip/blueberries/Cool Whip/sliced strawberries, from the bottom up, so that the end result was a cool and yummy red-white-and-blue concoction. When I offered it to the girls for dessert, Miss Attitude said, “I just want some blueberries.”

LB: The blueberries are in there.

MA: Did you use ALL the blueberries for the dessert?

LB: Yes. But look! {Cheerful Mommy voice.} It’s got strawberries, and blueberries, and Cool Whip!

MA: I just want some plain blueberries.

LB: {Cheerful Mommy voice, turning to getting-impatient voice.} All the blueberries are in the dessert. Would you like to try it?

MA: No. I just want some plain blueberries.

LB: {Now very impatient, bordering on exasperated} [Miss Attitude], all. the blueberries. are in. the. dessert. Would you like to try it?

MA: No.

LB: Why can’t you just try it?

MA: Because that’s level two.

LB: WHAT?

MA: Plain blueberries is level one. And blueberries in the dessert is level two. And I’m not on level two yet.

Yeah. I gave up, after that. And - I could be wrong here - but I’m thinking maybe the child has played a few too many video games lately. Possibly.

Blueberries, Part I

I am ashamed to admit that my children had never eaten fresh blueberries. I could offer up all sorts of excuses, but basically, I don’t buy a lot of fresh fruit and veggies because, most of the time, I end up throwing away half or more. But I’m trying to get us ALL into healthier eating habits, so I picked up a carton of blueberries at the grocery store last weekend.

Miss Attitude: What’s that?

The Drama Queen: Is that blueberries?

LadyBug: Yep. [Very eloquent, don't you think?]

MA: Do we even LIKE blueberries? [Child, if YOU can't keep up with what you like and don't like, from one day to the next, how the hell do you expect ME to do it?]

DQ: Have we ever even TRIED blueberries?

DQ: Oh!Oh! WAIT! I HAVE tried ‘em! I LIKE blueberries. They come in MUFFINS!