So its been a pretty crazy few months. I don’t remember pregnancy being like this last time. Apparently I’ve aged a lot in the last two years because growing a human is way more exhausting than I remember; these days I have a difficult time summoning up the strength to complete my daily duties much less blog. Maybe when this mythical nesting kicks in I will dish on all the juicy details of our little O’s gestation, but for now suffice it to say that though it has been at times a dramatic pregnancy, we are very grateful to have a healthy baby girl growing steadily (and wiggling constantly) in my belly. And we are equally grateful to have another little girl, outside my belly, who gets sassier and more lovely each and every day! In fact, it was a another bathing adventure that inspired me to break my blog silence. Again. Strange, hunh?
So I recently read an article on how to help keep your children safe from sexual predators. One of the suggestions was to talk to them at bath time about private parts and who is allowed access to said parts. After careful consideration, I decided Weezy was ready for a conversation regarding this issue. Plus, she has recently become extremely interested in body parts, especially my gigantic belly and chi chis, (I know, I should not be surprised.) so I figured lets kill two birds with one stone: have a chat, protect her from perverts, get her to quit honking my nips. Win-win! Needless to say our conversation did not go as planned, and the occasional honk-honk may be the least of our problems.
I say: “Time to wash your heinie!”
Eloise responds: “Heinie!”
I continue: “You know, your heinie, and pachina, and chi-chis are private parts.”
Eloise interrupts: “Two chi-chis! One, two! (points to my chi-chis) Eh-weese chi-chi! One, two! (points to her chi-chis)”
I refuse to be distracted by her obviously gifted counting skills and re-route the conversation: “That’s right! You have two chi-chi’s and I have two chi-chis. But no one should touch your chi-chis or my chi-chis except for ourselves,” (oh crap! Brakes had accidently started the whole nipple honking thing when Weezy caught her daddy copping a feel! Note to self: tell Brakes to keep his damn paws off of me. Well that is kind of confusing; I don’t want her to think her dad is some sort of perv or that flirtation between husband and wife is shameful (I’d recently read an article about how to establish healthy first impressions of sex in your children… I obviously read too many articles. ) Better switch gears: “Except for Daddy. Daddy can sometimes touch Mommy’s chi-chis. “ (Crap again! How awkward is that? And what about Baby O?! Come April, I am going to have another little human positively manhandling the ladies 90% of my waking hours. Talk about mixed messages! Why did I ever start talking about chi-chis! Agh!) Enough about chi-chis. Lets talk about pachinas.
Eloise gives me a confused look.
I say: “Your pachina and heinie are private parts too. That means nobody can touch them except for Mommy, Daddy, and Nicole,” (her day-care teacher).
Eloise brightly responds: “Mommy, Daddy, Cole!”
I am relieved that this part of the discussion seems to be going well: “That’s right! Only Mommy, Daddy, and Nicole can touch your private parts.”
Eloise, after a thoughtful pause during which I am impressed because she really seems to understand what I am telling her, she says: “ Mommy, Daddy, Cole, and Bubba” (her best-friend at school).
I think: “Did I just hear that right?!” I try again: “No Weezy, only Mommy, Daddy, and Nicole can touch your private parts.”
Weezy petulantly sticks out her lower lips and replies in a stern voice: “And Bubba!”
“Not Bubba! Just Mommy Daddy, and Nicole!”
“Mommy, Daddy, Cole, and Bubba!” Then she stomps her foot.
I gaze at the slippery shower floor and my little daughter’s stubborn face and I decide to cut my losses. Maybe bath time is not a great opportunity to start a discussion about private parts. And should I be worried that my not-yet two year old daughter just informed me that she will give an all access pass to Bubba at preschool? Yikes! What is she going to be like at 16?!
No wonder I am tired.