Sunday, March 16, 2014

The "Talk"

Some things are better left unsaid, or better yet ignored completely. Children are always coming up with frustrating questions, but there is one that all parents dread having to deal with. "THE" question. As one could imagine, I generally come out with creative answers for most of them, so many of them in fact that my boys are catching on to the idea that Daddy is the pretty much not the "go to guy" for many of life's lingering mysteries. (For example, last week the 6 year old asked me why elderly people sometimes walk funny, and I told him it is because their adult diapers are full and often chafe.)

The latest barrage of questions actually started a couple of months ago when  Josh was watching an awards show with Taylor Swift and suddenly announce that she was dancing nice and it gave him action in the pants. Then last week the three year old backed me into a corner with this gem, "Daddy, how does a baby get into Mommy's belly?" to which I responded, "With a big bottle of wine, and extreme begging!" I heard a squawk from the other room, and realized it was a good time to go for a long walk.

A couple of days later, I was cleaning out a drawer of old papers and the like and stumbled across an article that Josh's doctor gave me when he was 5, stating that it was a good time to discuss sexual matters with your child. I got to thinking about when I learned about the birds and the bees, and how I was oblivious to the concept, and would have remained happily so, but my father sat me down and read from a book about the whole process. I distinctly remember how nervous he was even to the point of shaking as he explained it all to me. I talked to my wife about what the article said, and we decided to gently approach the subject. I took Josh aside and asked him if he ever had heard the "F" word before. He thought about it, and said; "Just when you say it I guess, but sometimes my friend Blaine says dammit!"

We discussed about how boys were different than girls. Not physically of course. More like women are irrational and emotional, yet they are able to rule the planet with a special hidden power that emanates from a special part of their body called "a rack." I also explained a mans ongoing dysfunction of making decisions with their private parts instead of their brains, and their apparent inability to read a map while taking a trip into the unknown. We discussed the proper names for a body parts, so he would stop calling everything in that region his "pee-pee." I asked him if he had any other questions, and after a moment of thought, he asked; "How do you change the oil in the Kia?" I was starting to tell him how you carefully remove the cover, get out a bottle of oil, pull out the dipstick..." at which point my wife burst into the room and asked me just what the hell I was telling him, and told me to get back on script. Sometimes even the innocent explanations sound wrong, but maybe it is just the juxtaposition of it all.

Josh wanted to know how a baby actually grows inside of mommy, so me being the analytical buffoon that I am, got out a pen and paper, explained cellular division theory and the six stages of mitosis. Maybe a bit heavy for a six year old so I tried to bring it back to his level and talked about how a chicken egg grows. Josh kept nodding and acting like it was very interesting, and I was  so proud that my little genius was absorbing all of this so well. I put down the pencil and said; " Any more questions?" "Yes Daddy, will you make me some scrambled eggs?  I am hungry now."

I have now decided that when it is time for him to learn more, that maybe I will just drop him off at his grandparents and let them explain it, although this could turn out badly as well. I remember when I was a little boy, and hearing my 13 year old sister asking my parents if it hurt to have a baby. My mom, in the manner that has served the Italians well for generations replied; "You betcha it does, you ever try having one, and I am gonna knocka you teeth out!"

The Project - First Things First

I have had a problem all my life with not letting go of anything. I have learned that my family name actually translates from Belgian to &qu...