conversations on the drive to vernal

Every other weekend the girls pack up their bags.

How many this time, Mom?  Just two.
As in two days.  Two pants, two shirts, two pairs of socks, two clean underwear.

We throw the bags in the trunk, plug in the iPod, and hit the road.  It's a three hour round trip drive to meet their dad half way.  That gives me an hour and a half of having them trapped in the car with me.

 Mine, all mine. Mwahahahahahaha.  (More about this here and in the middle of here).

We have great conversations during that time.  This weekend was no exception.

Tayler asks me, "Mom, what year were you born in?"
To which I relpy, "' 79."
*gasps* "Whoa, I've never heard of a year like that before!"
"What are you talking about?" How could she have never heard of a year like that? I had no idea where she was coming from.
"A year that only has two numbers! Gosh Mom, you're old."

{pic source}

*ahem* "That would be 1979, thank you very much."  And then we all burst out laughing, I couldn't stop laughing.  To think that her mind actually thought I could be born in a year with only two numbers in it.  Man alive.

To save you the math, that makes me 33 years old, not 1933 years old.

This song popped up on the iPod, (Tim McGraw, Back When)



It was all good and fine until at the end of the song when Casidee asks, "when would a screw not be a screw?  I don't get it."

I'm pretty sure that popular music of all genres is out to get me as a mother.  We were in this boat with Lady Gaga and disco stick.  Remember?  It's here if you need a refresher on how that one went.

Cas looked at me for an answer.

*warning*  I'm going to use the word S.E.X. here. 

"Well, screw is a slang word for sex."

"Oh...
So it probably isn't a very nice thing to tell someone 'screw you' then, huh."

No, Cas, no it's not.

Thank you Tim McGraw.

Girl nuts and disco sticks

Oh Cali.
"Mom! Tayler kicked me in the nuts and it really hurt!"
"Cali, do you even know what that means?" (I'm desperately trying not to laugh).
"No..."
"Then why are you saying it?"
Well, she apparently did know the basics of what it meant, because when asked where it was that she was kicked, she had the right area.
And then she got a rudimentary lesson on female and male genitalia.  With a rough sketch... very rough.
Any questions?
Yes.  To set the next question up I should tell you that the kids got new mp3 players for Christmas and apparently Cali had some Lady Gaga downloaded to hers.  "What's a disco stick?"
I think it will be a few years before Cali realizes how perfectly timed that question was.  How do you explain a ride on a disco stick to the one and only child who was asleep for The Talk? Well, we just covered the basics of genitalia, so how about how they're used? Roughly... very roughly.  She was disgusted and Lady Gaga has been banned from our house.  I don't need her speeding these things up for me anymore.

What is 69?

It's a pretty calm evening, well, in my world. I'm pretty good at ignoring the screaming girls running around. A friend is over which only seems to amplify things. But I'm in my happy zone. I'm in the kitchen baking cupcakes and a single cake for a baby shower. I scored on some things at Orson Gygi today, and I'm mulling over in my mind how to tackle the current cake project, while taking note of two more that are coming up next week. After a day of number crunching, my creativity gets to start flowing. Brynn is sitting on a bar stool on the other side of the counter, watching me.
"Mom, what does 69 meant?"
I pause. In a flash second I take note of the rule I promised myself I would always follow. If they're old enough to ask, they're old enough to know. But I also like to stick with the rule to keep the information age appropriate. I don't know enough about where she's coming from with this to know how I should proceed so I ask, "what do you mean? Where did you hear it?"
"When we read that Cleopatra was born in 69."
A flood of relief that I had decided to ask a little more. Can you imagine had I just plunged in with an answer on "69"???? Brynn has just done a book report on Cleopatra and we found out that she was born in 69 B.C.
I think I'd much rather explain B.C. and A.D. to my child than... well, I'm actually going to be OK if I never have to explain the alternative with her.

THE talk

Are you ready for this? I need to post this conversation so I can always remember it. It's a keeper! This happened a few months ago. My ex had just had a baby, West's ex had just had a baby, our neighbor had just had a baby... we had been at West's and were driving home. The girls had been discussing all the babies in their lives with West's daughter, Jayme. Trapped in the car, with no way to escape Tayler asks (sweet Tayler. Sweet, sweet, sweet, Tayler. How incredibly funny that this would be started by her, out of all my daughters), "Mom, how are babies made?" Not where do babies come from, but how are they MADE. I balked. I had always told myself that I would be straight forward with my girls. To be perfectly (and a bit embarrassingly) honest I had no clue about that area when I was a teen and even a new bride. My mom's version of "the talk" was to draw me the woman's anatomy. That really doesn't help with much. I have ovaries. Good to know, and the man's *** goes where exactly?... I wasn't ready for the question so I stalled. "How do you think, Tay?" She shrugs, "I dunno" in a way that implicates "duh, MOM, that's why I'm asking YOU." So I switch to Cas. Mostly I was curious to see if she had a take on it from hearing or seeing things from around us. Or at school. She was embarrassed and mumbled she didn't know. Which made me wonder how much she did know and didn't want to admit to. Fine. My girls need to know they can come to me with any question, especially of this sort, and if I play my cards with them correctly now, they'll still come to me later when it matters a bit more. So I stuck with my original plan to be straight forward with them. Age appropriate straight forward that is. If they're old enough to ask, they're old enough to know. (Let me make note right here that Cali was asleep for this). "Well, it's called sex. A husband puts his penis in the wife's vagina. Something called sperm comes out of the penis and goes into the wife's uterus where babies are made in a mommy's belly. When the sperm touches the egg in there it turns into a baby that grows in a mommy's belly." A unanimous "EWWWWWWWW!" I took that as a good sign. But sweet little Tayler wasn't finished with me yet. "Have YOU ever done that MOM?" To which I answered, "I have you guys don't I?" And Tayler continued, "With WHO?" She was so astonished. Cas caught on at this point and at the same time I answered "You have a dad don't you?" Cas says, "Dad, duh." I'm very much looking forward to repeating this experience with Cali. At least I got three of them done in one blow... though I hope this isn't the end of it. I hope as they have more questions about it, especially as teens, that they'll keep coming to me.