September 16, 2011

Where Babies Come From

For a long, long, long time (entirely not long enough, though) when the question of where babies came from came up, my children would say, "Africa.  Duh."  Actually, I added the duh just to prove that I'm a product of coming of age in the 90's.  But truly, they thought that when you wanted a baby, you just went to Africa and got one.  And they came in a variety of colors and ages, etc. and you just brought them home, put some baby Gap on 'em and tada! Babies.  That's one of the joys of adoption.  You get to pass all kinds of things like this off. 

Then one day the big kids noticed that some people we knew actually had babies IN THEIR STOMACHS.  Shut the front door, y'all- the big kids are almost 8 and 5 and they are just now realizing this baby in the belly phenomenon.  I'm not sure if they are just non-observant or if they think that some people just randomly get implanted with basketballs under their shirts sometimes or what has caused this lack of knowledge, but such is life.  It was a random Tuesday, about a month ago, when the question that every parent dreads came out of their little innocent mouths, "Mom?  Where do babies come from?" 

I truly tried to just say Africa but they weren't having it this time. Darn it.

Noah said, "But how do the babies get to Africa?"

Ummmm... I fumbled.  I wasn't sure how far to go with this one.  I know that when kids are old enough to ask serious questions, they deserve to have serious answers.  But as the bullets of sweat dropped down my forehead I was really praying that I was NOT going to have to give the birds and bees talk.  Speaking of, why in the world do they call it "birds and bees".  Birds just seem to hop around in the grass in close proximity together and then voila!  Eggs.  I'm pretty sure that I didn't end up with my first two kids by hopping around in the grass too close to someone.  If that was true that these kids could be any body's because ya know- I'm kinda partial to hopping around in the grass with strangers.  Just call me a bird whore.

I finally figured out that they had no interest in how the babies got into the bellies.  What they really wanted to know is how they got out of the bellies.  The conversation went a little something like this. 

Me: "Well, Noah.  Mommies go to the hospital and the doctor helps get the babies out."
Noah: "But how?"

Me:  "Ummm.  You know how mommy and Sadie don't have penises?  We have a special place that babies come out of.  Only girls have that special place so only girls can have babies.  (And OMG.  I really did say "special place" to my son.  What the freckle was I thinking?  I think I caved under the pressure.  I have got to get better at saying "vagina" in my real life.  Or "magenta" as I called it as a kid.  I also called it a "slick" as a toddler but that's probably a whole other post.  For the record- I think I meant "slit" and it just came out all wrong.  For a period of a few year. *sigh*)

Noah:  But really, Mom.  How does it actually come out."

Me:  Mommies push and push and push and the babies comes out.

Noah:  Oh.  Okay.

Then the kid looked at me.  He seemed satisfied with that answer and ran off.  Then I heard him yell to his sister, "Sadie!  Mom says when you are a grown up girl you have to go to the hospital and POOP and a baby will come out!  Gross!"

I'm chalking the whole thing up as one of my finest parenting conversations to date.  In fact, I'm including it on my application for mother of the year.  I'm also adding "poops babies" to my list of super powers.

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