My daughter is the love of my life. I NEVER prayed for a girl, but God has the odd ability of giving us what we need when we don't even know we need it. God also won't give us anything we can't handle. So God, give me something to handle this situation. (I can only avoid this question so many times.....)
One day I overheard her talking about pop-pops. She said, while pointing to her doll, "Those are her pop-pops." Eve was pointing to the doll's breast!!!! I was shock. So shocked that instead of leaving "well-enough" alone, I asked her a question.
Me: Eve, what are pop-pops.
Eve: You know Mommmmm. They're the things that are popping out of her chest.
Me: Oh......okay.....(what do I really say to that???)
I didn't say anything else about pop-pops. I literally said "oh....okay" and went back to minding my own business.
A few days later, Eve and I were sitting on the couch. (She is literally never no more than 3 feet from me at any given moment when we are at home.) She looks at me and says...
Eve: Mom, what are those called? (She points to my chest....the breast.)
------Instantly time stands still. Awwwww hell. Do I (A) tell her the truth??? That they are called breasts. Or do I (B) lie a little. Maybe I should (C) act as if I didn't hear her at all. I really don't want to have this conversation.---------
Me: (I decided to go with option C and ignore her completely.)
Eve: MOM! Look at me! (She says the next part real, real slow. As if I have a comprehension problem.) Whhhaatttt aaarrreeee ttttthhhhoooossseeeee caaallllleeedddd??????
Me: (Damn, option C isn't working.....let's try option B.) Eve, you know what they are called. You said it the other day, remember???
Eve: (She tilts her head and stares at me...) MOM....
Me: EVE!!! (I'm not about to let a 4 year old girl punk me out!!!!!!)
Eve: Mom!!! (Whining now.) What are the called?
Me: They're called pop-pops.
Eve: (Sit quietly....probably contemplating slapping me).
Me: (I go back to ignoring her. I'm feeling very triumphant at this point.)
Eve: Mom, I know they're not called pop-pops. That's what I called them. I want to know what they are REALLY called.
Me: Eve, they're called pop-pops. You're such a smart girl.
Eve: (She wasn't buying it.) Mom, what are they really called. I KNOW they are NOT CALLED POP-POPS!!!!!!!
Me: (clearly panicking and frustrated at this point....) Well, hell, Eve. If they're not called pop-pops I don't know what they're called then!!!!!!
I then get up and lock myself in the bathroom for a bit. (Yes, I have to lock the door. Privacy means nothing to her.)
Mommy Phoebe Free
These are simple letters to my kids...about their antics.