The Birds and the Bees...

I am a thinker. I like to think things through before I speak.

This makes me fairly incompetent in social situations, because people generally don't like to wait for extended periods of time to get answers to questions such as "How are you?" or "What have you been up to lately?".

I have adapted somewhat, because the future I once envisioned for myself - the future that involved me shunning human companionship completely, and frolicking off into the forest to live with the fae and be at one with the universe (don't laugh, I know you think it sounds awesome) - no longer exists for me. I have chosen to live here, in all the messy mortal glory that comes with being a wife and mother.

Unfortunately, It also comes with responsibilities like small talk, because lets face it, you're not gonna let your kid go for a play date at the crazy mute lady's house.
So I lie. I tell people what they want to hear, but often just end up rambling because I really don't know what the hell I'm doing.

Dealing with questions from my boys however, demands more effort.

My unwillingness to lie to them, coupled with my possum-caught-in-the-headlights reaction to questions, makes for an almost inevitable disaster. But, I've found disaster can be avoided with a few simple techniques:

#1. Immediately upon hearing it, repeat the question back, preferably rephrased.
This has two benefits, the first being that you are showing that you are listening and interested in the question (and also making sure you have it right. If I had implemented this earlier, I could have avoided the long racial conversation I had with Connah when he asked why his friend was a different colour to him. Seriously, I was rambling about genetics and DNA for twenty minutes, which was pretty hard, 'cause I know crap-all about genetics and DNA. Also, completely unnecessary because as It turns out, his friend had really bad sunburn.)
The second (and probably most important) reason for this is that it buys you time to gather your scattered thoughts and come up with a coherent answer.

#2. Do not offer candy and / or cookies as a ploy in order to distract the child and buy yourself more time to think.
By the time they finish eating (and you've come up with an explanation worthy of an award of some kind) they will have lost all interest in anything you have to say unless it directly relates to them getting more candy.

#3. Whatever it is that you come up with to say, simplify it.

Expanding a small child's vocabulary is great, but expecting them to understand you when you're explaining about the moral and ethical dilemmas of lying is unrealistic. To avoid becoming a human thesaurus during your speech, save vocabulary lessons for another time

#4. While it's important to tell the truth, it's fine to omit things that are not age appropriate.
Is it really necessary for your toddler to know the exact blood spatter pattern of the possum you hit with your car last night?

How about why your neighbor, Mrs Jones sneaks out of her house every night that her husband goes away on business trips?
This is where editing comes in handy. The possum died. Mrs Jones is visiting a friend. Unless they specifically ask for details you're pretty safe.

However if the child has a genuine interest in something you deem inappropriate, you would have to judge whether they are mentally / emotionally able to understand and cope with the information, and go from there. Just try not to raise a serial killer - that would be bad.

So, keeping in mind my complete inability to answer questions like a normal person, and the subsequent list of rules I need to refer to in order to make any sense at all, this is what I came up with during my first attempt at answering one of the most feared questions of parents everywhere:

Connah: "Where do babies come from?"

Me: (Repeat. Maybe this has something to do with sunburn too...)"Do you mean how are babies made? Or where do they come from?"

Connah: "No, I mean how do you get one?"

Me: (The cabbage patch. No, stalks bring them! Crap! No lying! ) "Well, when you're grown up, you have to find a girl that you want to share one with and then she will grow it in her belly until it gets big enough to be born. Then you have a baby.

Connah: "I have to share it with a girl?! Can't I just grow one in my own belly?"

Me: (Well with the advances in medical technology, it is actually possible for a man to carry a baby to term... Edit: Unnecessary information at this time...) "No, only girls grow babies in their bellies. Boys don't have the right parts inside them to grow one."

Connah: "What if two boys want to share a baby?"

Me: (Not the time for an adoption or gay rights speech... simplify...) "Then they have to find a girl who doesn't want to keep her baby, and ask if they can look after it."

Connah: "But only girls grow the babies?"

Me: "Yes."

Connah: "Mummy?"

Me: "Yes Connah?"

Connah: "When I'm grown up, will you ask a girl to grow me a baby, cause ummm, I'm gonna be busy that day."





xox