A couple days ago, LeShallowGal wrote a hilarious post outlining her son's idea of how a baby enters into the world. It brought back memories of when my kids had similar questions.
Long ago and far away, Number One Son was a little guy of 6 or so. This little guy was one of those kids who asked questions. Deeper questions than I was prepared to answer.
One day in the car he was quiet for a long time and then came the question from the back seat, "Mama? Is the world the back of God's hand?"
On another occasion--without provocation--he suddenly asked, "Mama, how does a mama get a baby in her tummy?"
Not a quick thinker on my feet, I hearkened back to a conversation I once had with my hubby's cousin, Sunny.
Sunny is one of those people who is friendly and easy to talk to, but she's not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier. Or, a better way to put it is: she's really dumb.
She had told me about explaining the birds and bees to her child. Actually, "explaining" is a bit of a stretch.
"Jackson asked about how babies are made and I told him that the daddy gives the mommy a seed and the seed grows in the mommy's tummy and becomes a baby."
Evidently, Jackson is not exactly the brightest bulb in the chandelier either because he accepted his mother's interpretation without further thought or question.
So--back to me driving with little Number One Son in the back seat asking me how babies are made: I panicked and fell back on the story Sunny had given her kid.
"Well," I hesitantly started, "the daddy gives the mommy a seed and the seed grows in the mommy's tummy and becomes a baby?"
"Hmmmm . . . " he thought and thought.
Danger, Will Robinson!
"But how does the seed grow into a baby?"
"Ummm . . . " I mumbled out an explanation that really had no relation to my original statement.
"Is the seed the daddy gives the mommy like bird seed?"
"No, not exactly."
"Well, could birds eat the seed if they wanted to?"
A couple years later when Hubby and I could tell that our kids were on the verge of finding out the real scoop about babies from some of their friends, we decided we'd best give them the facts ourselves. And by 'ourselves', I mean that at the dinner table hubby did all the talking while I studied the food on my plate very intently.
Several years after that painful episode, I was talking with a friend during our kids' archery lessons. He was sharing his recent experience of the 'birds and bees . . . but not with birdseed' conversation with his son.
Inside my head I was smugly thinking "Ha! Too bad for you! I am so done with that phase of our lives! Best of luck!"
It only took a couple hours for me to realize that I had another child, Youngest, and I still had one facts-of-life conversation to go . . .
I totally rock as a mom.