Being a parent is hard work. There are all the diaper changes and feedings when they’re small. There’s the pure hell that is toilet training. There’s getting vomit on your favorite blouse and all in your hair and then having to clean that up too. But it’s not without its rewards. Kids kind of make up for it by being so cute. And funny.
My eldest is about to turn 5, something she’s happy to tell you about every 5 minutes or so. She’s a chatterbox that never quits. She has 1,000 questions and a million things to say. As I type this now, I can hear her in her room talking to her dolls and stuffed animals. I think she’s telling them that she’s turning 5 soon.
As my big girl gets even bigger, I know it’s important to talk to her about lots of more mature things, but in an age appropriate way. When I bathe her, I’ve always talked to her about her parts. I told her that her private parts were just that – private. But as she got bigger, I told her what her private part was called. She seemed thrilled with this. “I have a vagina!” She shouted with glee. “Isn’t that great?” she asks her 19-month-old sister who is happily splashing the bubbles around beside her.
As bath time is a routine, the girls have come to expect everything that happens next. First, I wash the bigger child and then I wash the baby so I can rinse her and get her out of there, leaving the bigger one to play with the bubbles and ducks and inevitably turn my bathroom floor into a lake. When I wash them both, we call out the parts. Hair, ears, nose, neck, armpits…all of it. We have to wash away the stinky yuckies, as I tell them.
One day, my big girl stands up so I can wash her privates and as she does, she yells out, “Vagina!” It still makes me giggle each time she says it but then she tells me something else after she sits down and I begin to wash her sister. “Mommy, Daddy doesn’t have a vagina,” she tells me. “Yes, that’s right,” I say to her in that ho-hum way many of us address our children when we’re busy with something else.
“Daddy has a peanut,” she tells me. I about died. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in my life.
See, not long before this, when I’d taught her the word “vagina” I told her it was a girl part. I told her boys, like Daddy, don’t have vaginas. “How does Daddy go pee pee?!?” she asked me, sounding alarmed. “Don’t worry. Daddy has a penis. That’s how he goes pee pee.” I tell her, and I think I’ve been a good, informative mom.
My husband comes in, curious to know what’s so funny during bath time and I tell him, “Hey, guess what, Honey? You have a peanut down there!”
Story shared by Jennifer Raskin, Internationally-Published Writer and Freelancer