The Birds, And The Bees…Froggy-Style.
Parenting is hard.
We have to deal with things like seeing our babies sick, projectile vomit, and a four year old mini-Picasso painting their bright-blue masterpieces on our clean, white garages (ahem, Luca.)
Everyone tells me it gets harder as your kids get older. But, most of the time, I’m knee-deep in kid-shit and way too busy to worry about what’s to come.
Yes. I’m well aware that their questions will become more difficult with each birthday they celebrate, but I’m barely hanging on as it is, you guys. Taking things one day at a time is all I can handle.
For now, I make sure to answer my boys open and honestly, giving them as much as their little brains can process.
But, I always try my best to tell it like it is.
My husband once asked me why I introduced words like penis and vagina into Luca’s vocabulary.
Umm, because that’s what they’re called? What should I tell him to call it…a cock?
Kids deserve our honesty, even when it’s uncomfortable for us.
I mean, do I dread the day when the Mommy, what does pizza look like when you throw it up turns into the Mommy, how are babies made?
Although, I’m pretty confident, because I totally have a fail-proof plan as to how I’ll approach these kinds of things.
(Plans? Ha. Children laugh in the face of plans.)
But, I’m certainly in no rush to tackle these doozies.
And, luckily, I haven’t had to go there yet, because my boys are still at an age where I can control their environment.
Just yesterday, I thought about how relieved I was that Luca wasn’t around when I was unwillingly exposed to pigeon pornography.
Oh, but not so fast with that big sigh of relief, Allison.
Hours after my little pigeon peep-show, the animal kingdom decided it wasn’t quite done fucking with me.
As I was getting Luca ready for bed I heard him scream.
“MOMMY! Come here now. WHAT are these guys doing? WHY is my boy frog sitting on top of my girl frog like that?”
Of course, our frogs had decided to do it froggy-style right there in plain sight for all the world to see. OF COURSE THEY HAD.
Oh…well…honey…that’s…umm…how they make their babies do you want a giant cookie before bed oh look there’s a bird.
“They hug each other, mommy?”
Oh. Yes…Ha…YES! They totally have to hug each other to make babies.
And, although the explanation was one of pure innocence and the crisis seemed averted, I could see that somewhere, deep in his four year old head, he knew there was way more to the story than that.
Please, animal kingdom, I beg of you.
Get a room.
Because, it turns out, I am so not ready for this shit.