Awkward Convos with Kids: A Natural Continuation

The following conversation is a natural continuation of previous conversations we've had with the kids regarding human bodies, reproduction, and how it all fits together. These conversations each begin with child lead curiosity and are followed by age appropriate discussions using honesty, real words for anatomy, and answering their questions, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable it may be.

This is not the first conversation we've had on the matter, and will not be the last. We believe in education over ignorance and communication over silence.

That being said, this is what I woke up to this morning:
Continue reading

Advertisements

CWK 24.7.365-7.11: On Dementia 

(The original convo took place on January 14, 2014. Thanks “Facebook memories” for this gem ūüėČ)

A group from a nursing home was at the community center while I was there with Lady J & Bud. One woman was particularly drawn to the kids and wanted to play air hockey with them. After leaving the kids were wondering why she was playing with her hands and why she didn’t know the rules, among other behaviors. A conversation about getting older, more forgetful, and dementia ensued. This was the end of it:

Bud: Oh gee. I hope I don’t get de-men-ta

J: That’s ok if you do, buddy. You won’t remember anyway!

CWK #24.7.365-7.11: The F Word

Lady J, timidly: Mom? What does fuck mean?

Bud: Heh, heh. Fuck.

Me, more than a bit dumbstruck: Where did you hear that word?

J: Stewart* asked me if I know what the “F” word is and I told him, “No.” Then Mathew* spelled it: f-u-c-k. I told them I didn’t know that word, but I could sound it out. Mom? What does fuck mean?

Inner-momologue: Oh Fuck! Crappity crap crap fuck this shit and the asshole who mentioned it to a second grader and now my kids know it, even though I’ve probably fucked up a few times in front of them too, FUCK!

Me: Well, first of all you should both know that it is a word that is rude, disrespectful, and will get you sent to Mr. Wollensky’s* office immediately, should you say it at school. In school, it’s worse than “stupid” or even “hate”. It will also get you sent to your room at home.

J: I know that, but what does it mean?

Me: Well, most adults use it when something goes wrong, like “Oh no!” or, “Oh dear!” 

J: Why wouldn’t they just say, “Oh no” or, “Oh dear” then? Or even, “Oh my goodness?”

Me: Sometimes, in the adult world, things go so wrong that a stronger word comes to mind first. It’s not polite, but it happens. 

Bud: Fuck! I can’t buckle my seatbelt! Heh, heh, heh. 

Me: Bud, you may not use that word. Not even to repeat it. Next time, it’s a timeout. No warnings. 

Bud: Poop. Well, I guess that’s ok. 

J: But, Mom, if it just means, “Oh no,” then why is it a bad word. What does it really mean?

Inner momologue: Fuuuuuuuuuck!

Me: I honestly need to discuss this with Daddy before telling you the real definition of the word.

J: Why do you need to talk to Daddy about what a word means?

Me: You asked a great question and I want to answer it honestly, yet appropriately. It’s a word that has some pretty grownup meanings and I want to make sure Daddy and I are both present for this conversation…

… The conversation we had at dinner included explaining that the word “fuck” was a derogatory word that often referred to disrespectful references towards outer appearances and inappropriate behavior. In their language we used terms such as “bucket dipping” and “bullying” and made sure that they knew it was a word that is never acceptable to use towards another person nor to be accepted in a humorous manner when directed at another person. We let them know that anyone who refers to them using that word is not a friend and that they may stand up for up for themselves, while they also have an obligation to stand up for others if that word is used against them and to report it to us, a teacher, or another trusted adult….I hope it fucking worked….

#innocencelost #herewegrow #convoswithkids #thefword #sothathappened

*all names have been changed

The End of Innocence 

Yesterday, while cleaning off my desk, I moved a picture Lady J drew for Toothiana, our tooth fairy, to put in her keepsake binder and accidentally left it out in plain sight before properly filing it. Of course she found it and asked why I still had it. Trying to think fast, I told her that Toothiana returned it to me so that I could save the memory just as Toothiana saves the original memory in the teeth she collects. If you’ve read William Joyce’s books about the Guardians of Childhood or seen the movie Rise of the Guardians, this makes sense, and J accepted this as truth. 

Today, while on the phone to his parents, Mr. TheKing mentioned that I go to the bank to get two dollar bills all the time. We only use two dollar bills for tooth fairy money. J was within earshot and immediately looked at both of us with The Look

…Looking forward to tomorrow night’s bedtime conversation, you know, once she has time to mull it all around for a bit longer…

#SoThatHappened #ParentingFail #TheEndOfInnocence #HereWeGrow

  

CWK: 24.7-365.7-11: Buttocks, part deux 

Bud, whining: Mom, K-Mad is calling me a bubble butt. 

Me: First of all, we don’t use the term butt. It’s rude. You can say tushy or buttocks. We’ve been over this before. Secondly, I don’t even know what that means. What is a bubble butt? What do you do with a bubble butt?

Kids start to giggle and respond:

Lady J: Blow it!

K-Mad: Pop it!

Bud: Buttocks. Butt. Talks. That’s a funny word. I wish my butt could talk.

At this point, my only thought is, “Pardon me. May I ass you a question?” From Ace Ventura, and it took every ounce of restraint to not ask it aloud…

Me, miraculously holding it together: That’s not how it’s spelled. It’s not t-a-l-k-s as in talking. It’s b-u-t-t-O-C-K-S

More giggles…

Bud: Huh. That’s like the “ock” of “sock”

{He’s clearly learning word families and phonics in school}

Bud: But I still wish my butt could talk. (Hehe. I said butt twice that time!)

Even more laughter…

Lady J: Bud, futzies are kinda like talking for butts.

Hysterical laughter insues…

K-Mad: Den my but can tawk! I’m so gassy! I been futzy-in for a-wotta-days now. Mememba dat time when my futzy was so stinky dat Daisy Dog weft da woom? Dat was a weawy stinky one…

Bud: K-Mad, do not talk with futzies. We’re in the car and Mom has the windows locked. I do not want your butt to talk when we’re stuck in here. Then you would be the bubble butt, for real…

K-Mad, whining: Mom, Bud dust cawwed me a bubble butt…

sunglasses 

That moment when you’re on vacation at the beach and there’s a giant wave that’s about to break and you have a choice to save your son or your sunglasses so you instinctively choose to grab your son instead of your sunglasses even though the wave wasn’t really all that big {you realize after the fact} plus he can swim rather well and he actually thought your attempt to grab him and save him from “eminent doom” was a shark attack but your “momma bear” reaction took over and you tried to prevent any harm to him as you have been trained to do as a lifeguard since the days of BC {before children} and moments later you realize that you not only scared your son into thinking the water was shark infested but you also lost your {good and only pair of} sunglasses in the wave and now you can no longer see in the bright southern sun as it reflects off the shimmering water and blinding sand so you try, in vain, to find them in the current and hope, pray, and cross your fingers that they wash up on shore all while getting an earful from your husband that you shouldn’t have been wearing those sunglasses in the water and that you are now (unfairly) relegated to wear dollar store glasses to the beach “just in case” even though (you don’t own any and) your track record for these sunglasses is pretty good considering they are 3 years old and you have yet to lose or damage them (not counting today) so when you average it all out, they have cost close to PENNIES per day so you go to sulk in the shallows and find shade for your burning eyes while your husband returns to the depths of the sandbar with your son and 20 minutes later, by sheer luck, he finds your sunglasses in another wave out in the ocean and almost looses his own sunglasses during the rescue and recovery…

#instantkarma #sothathappened #myhero #vacationwoes #vacationdosanddonts #firstworldproblems

CWK #247365711.2: 28-35 days later, the continuation of the conversation…

The following conversation is a natural follow-up to a conversation that began this past spring, when Lady J’s first grade class hatched chicks and learned about fertilized/unfertilized eggs. It then continued over the summer when the children learned of menstruation due to a bathroom door that doesn’t lock and an unrealistic expectation of parental privacy. This is the third installment and will undoubtedly NOT be the last: Continue reading

CWK #247365711: An Intro to Womanhood

This may be TMI for some readers, but a few friends have recently questioned how to answer questions¬†like those in the following conversation that¬†recently happened. ¬†Much¬†as I’d like to, it’s nothing to shy away from or be embarrassed about when talking to your littles. ¬†I have always maintained that honesty is the best policy when answering life’s (not so) little questions and to keep your answers appropriately worded and detailed for your child’s comprehension. That being said, it doesn’t make some parenting moments any less awkward… Continue reading

CWK #247365711: Talk to the Dad

So I’m sleeping, as many often do at 5am, and Bud comes in to our room to whisper, “Mom, I need a band-aid. I cut my penis.”

Most moms would probably throw the covers off and dart to an immediate “deer in headlights” stance trying to gather her wits while asking a bazillion questions, but I was caught in that middle time of dream land and life so his statement replayed in my head in that in between space for another hour or so while I sleepily asked if his penis was bleeding, which it was not, so I told him to go potty, get dressed, and make his bed. I would look at it when I woke up.

An hour later, he was dressed, I was awake, and we both seemed to forget about the whole (bizzarre) incident…until that night at bath time:

Bud: Mom, this is whewe I cut my penis. Look!

Me, wide eyed and having a horrific flashback in realization that it was not, in fact, a dream: Ooooohhhh, right! I see… It doesn’t look cut.

Bud: Yes it is. Look! (he shows me again.)

Me: Bud, that’s not a cut. thats where your urine comes out.

Bud: You mean my pee-pee? I know that! Look next to it!

Me, not seeing anything out of the ordinary: I’m going to call Daddy in. He might have more experience with this…Honey! (you don’t really think I call him “Mr. TheKing” for real, do you?) Can you come in here? Bud has something to show you!

Mr. TheKing enters the bathroom and I fill him in on the convo, so far.

MTK, looking horrified: Bud, how did this happen?

Bud: Well, my penis was cold so I twied to wawm it up.

MTK: On what?

Bud: My nightlight lightbulb.

MTK turns white as a ghost and proceeds: We NEVER touch lightbulbs. They get very hot. That was very dangerous.

Bud: I know that now, Daddy. I think I’m ok now. See? 

Me: Out of curiosity, why was your penis cold?

Bud: Because I took off my pajamas, of couwse!

Me: Bud, that’s why you’re supposed to get dressed when you wake up.

Bud: Oh! Wight! Well now I know that’s a weally good idea. I won’t fo-get that tomowwow!

#WhatTheWhat?!?!?!?!
#LessonLearned??????
#UnexpectedConvosWithKids
#NeverDull
#SoThatHappened…

Convos With Kids #247365711: Spelling

September 2014

Lady J is starting to spell out her responses, as is expected, as she learns to read more and is used to hearing adults spell out words. Bud is trying to follow suit, as is expected from a younger sibling….

…Except Bud doesn’t have a clue about the correlation between phonics and letters yet and seems to limit his requests to using four letters at a time. His attempts are generally innocent and difficult to decipher: Mommy? Can I have k-b-z-y? (Translation: goldfish.)

However, this morning, while in the waiting room at the dentist’s office, he loudly asked if he could play with that d-o-n-g while he had one hand in his pocket and the other pointed in the general direction of the other people in room…

…There are no words for the obvious embarrassment that the 2 young gentlemen who shared the tiny space with us felt, as one’s face flushed bright red, and the other covered his face in his hands and stifled a guffaw.

Fortunately, the door to the back opened and the dental hygienist called on us to follow her, or it may have been more #awkward.

#soTHAThappened #boysandtheirtoys #kidssaythedarnedestthings

(After his checkup was complete and we were exiting, I discovered that Bud was referring to the “treasure chest” for post-visit-prizes.)