My daughter is eight. Sometime, a few months ago, we had “the talk.” I can’t even remember what inspired the momentous occasion. I wish I would have written it down. I decided not to blog about it because I didn’t want to be one of those mommy bloggers that embarrasses the crap out of her kids. Yet, here I am.
As part of the talk, Elle had an epiphany. “OOOHHHH, so that’s what those tubes are that you stick up your butt.” Uhhhh… not exactly Elle. And nothing should EVER go in your butt. E-V-E-R. (I like to indoctrinate my children at an early age, okay!?!) So, after a few more minutes of anatomy and the more icky facts of life we had the purpose of tampons down pat.
A couple of nights ago we were out to dinner. My kids went off to the bathroom at the end of our meal while the Hubbs and I enjoyed the only 5 minutes of silence I experienced all day. My son, 5, went into the ladies’ room with Elle. He has a broken leg and needs a little help. I was feeling lazy and just let her take him. I will forever regret that decision.
A few minutes after the kids went to the bathroom my daughter came out telling me Jordan needed help finishing up (that’s code for butt-wiping time. Yep, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to accompany him to college to wipe his ass. This broken leg thing has done no.thing to help that problem.) When I went in there were tampon wrappers and applicators on the floor all around him. This mother promptly freaked the freak out thinking he’d been digging around in the garbage can that we have had numerous discussions about never touching. (The child may not know how to wipe his ass but he knows you can get syphilis from touching the small silver garbages.) He quickly put me at ease by informing me those tubes were new, and Elle gave them to him. (A moment of investigation confirmed that there was a basket of tampons for the use of whomever- especially unattended children- on the counter. Brilliant.)
My tiny little baby then went on to ask me a million questions about tampons, and suzies (our code word for girl privates,) and a myriad of other things I am blocking out at this time. This is the synopsis of the discussion:
- I successfully avoided telling any actual facts about tampons, suzies or anything else.
- I successfully discouraged my child from wanting to see any suzies in the foreseeable future. Hopefully.
- I am plotting the murder of my eldest child for putting me in this position at this point in my life, when I can. not handle one more thing.
- What I thought was a successful avoidance of all topics until my hubby could handle this for our BOY since I handled it for our GIRL seems to be backfiring since Hubbs has decided that too now falls under my job description. (You may remember a previous discussion about this in regard to dental appointments and him being the chief breadwinner and this shit falling on me. We will be rectifying this situation as soon as I come up with a plan that makes his life a living hell.)
- My son will most definitely need therapy. Lots of therapy.
- So do I.