AN UNLIKELY REQUEST

Tonight after work, Maggie, Aleita and I hopped in the car to take a few things over to our friends, the Ritters. As we were driving, Maggie commented, "Tom and Diana have three sons. You don't have any sons, Mommy. Just daughters."

"That's right," I answered.

She thought for a moment and then said, "I wish I had a baby brother. She then excitedly added, "Hey! I know! I am going to ask Santa Claus for a baby brother this Christmas!" She then queried, "Hey Aleita! What are you going to ask for for Christmas? A baby brother too?"

Aleita calmly replied, "No. I am going to ask Santa Claus for a Superman costume."

And that, friends, is the difference between my two children. (I also commented to my children that Aleita probably had a far better chance of receiving her request.)

PART TWO: THE BIRDS AND THE BEES . . . AND THE PUPPIES AND THE CHICKENS

If you read my blog yesterday, you discovered how Maggie, our seven year old, has started asking those questions that every parent dreads. Actually, she started asking those questions a few years ago, when our sister-in-law was pregnant with our niece, Kaylin. You know, I try to think of myself as a with-it, intelligent parent, but using the words “penis” and “vagina” in a conversation with my child are certainly not the highlights of my day. Of late, her questions about how babies are made are much more focused on how animal babies are made. If you missed yesterday’s blog, it is important you get caught up before you look ahead at today’s entry.

Being the super-great mom that I am and wanting to help sate my child’s curiosity, as well as allow her to understand that it is ok to ask questions, I decided to head to the library. It has become obvious from the confused looks I am getting from Maggie that she really isn’t grasping my fact spiel about animal procreation. I think I may have confused her even more actually. I thought it might be helpful to pick up some books on the subject so that she could see some drawing and illustrations to assist me in explaining just how babies are made.

I have been really busy at work these days, and left work late on my way to the library. Not wanting to spend too much time there, I found the appropriate section, and quickly grabbed a few titles that I thought would be suitable for our needs. I figured I could look through them after the kids were in bed and decide which would be the best to use.

I had told Chris I was stopping by the library on the way home, but hadn’t explained why. After I got home, I set the books on a higher counter that the kids don’t use, and started helping Maggie with her homework. I figured I would explain all about the books to him later. However, he stumbled on them before I had a chance to explain. He pulled me aside with one of the books in hand, and said, “what in hell’s name are you thinking?” Now keep in mind, I hadn’t really had a chance to look through the books while I was at the library.

I couldn’t contain my laughter as we flipped through this particular book, and immediately I knew, I just knew, what today’s blog would feature. So, without further ado. . . . I must present some excerpts from Schepp and Andry’s book, How Babies Are Made.

This first featured drawing shows that female chickens have eggs and male chickens have sperm. OK - so far, so good. These are basic enough facts - are you with me so far?

Here's where things start to go awry. First, the rooster spies the chicken and decides that he wants to get him some of that. Bend over, let me see ya shake a tail feather. . .

It doesn't take long for the funky chicken dance to begin. Dear Lord, how could I possibly explain this one to a seven year old?

Mission Accomplished - We now see the sperm heading toward the eggs. (Sidenote: What is wrong with this chicken? Does it never walk upright?)

I wonder if Maggie will be as keen on eating eggs once she figures out that the come from a chicken's butt?

The rooster is looking at his new little chick like he is his pride and joy. Wonder how the little chick will feel once he finds out that his ol' rooster daddy likes to spread the love around the barnyard, and that there's a little chick, chick here, a chick, chick there, here a chick, there a chick, everywhere a chick, chick.

Leaving the barnyard behind, we move onto Rover. Oh how cute! Rover has learned to sit up and beg! While he's sitting so nicely, let's check out his penis and testicles!





Bow, wow. No foreplay here. Rover gets right to it.

Don't run right out and try to check this book out from the Decatur Public Library! It is still at home on my kitchen counter. You will have to wait your turn.

OH BABY. . . .

We had two of my closest friends, Michelle and Kristin, and their families, over for dinner last night. They both got started with their baby-raisin’ days a little later than we did. Our oldest is seven, and our youngest will be four in early March. Michelle’s son is a year and a half old, and she is pregnant with their second child, and Kristin’s little girl was just born in early December. It only takes spending a little time with little bitty kids to remember why we decided to stop at two.

My hat is off to all of you with big families - - or hey, with more than two kids for that matter. For awhile, we tossed around the idea of one more little one. Then we started really thinking about it and woke up from that pipe dream. For starters, when Aleita was a baby and she and Maggie were in daycare at the same time, we spent just over $13,000 in daycare expenses. That is not a typo - - $13,000 for two kids in daycare. If we were to have another child, we would be right back in that same situation, at least until Aleita begins kindergarten in August of 2009. In addition, we would most likely have to look at two new cars - - I don’t think my little car can handle three carseats in the back, and Chris’s car is starting to get some age and miles on it and it is only a matter of time before it gives up the ghost. We also just recently purchased and fixed up our new home, and we have no plans of leaving anytime soon - - but with only three bedrooms, two of the kids would have to share a room (I know, not the end of the world, but still a consideration.)

Beyond financial considerations: Until you are around tiny infants again, you forget how demanding and stressful having one really is. The thought of having to get up at all hours with a newborn is something I definitely do not miss. Likewise, as I watched Kristin lug in the bulky infant carrier and Lucy’s diaper bag, I had a little smile at knowing how nice it is now just to be able to throw everybody in the car and go and not have to spend 20 minutes making a pack that is roughly the same size of those used by climbers to scale the Himalayas to simply sustain the needs of a newborn 10 pound baby for two hours away from home. Kristin even balanced Lucy on her lap as she ate supper because she knew that putting her down in her car carrier would result in her waking up and screaming until she was fed. I cut my kids food up for them, but beyond that, they were totally self-sufficient for the entire meal.

Michelle’s 18-month old, Nathaniel, is a bundle of energy. He also requires a large pack, though his is perhaps the size of someone who plans to do some climbing the Rockies. Having somewhat older kids now, it didn’t occur to me until they walked through the door that my house is not even close to baby-proofed. As he ran through the living room, I quickly grabbed and moved candles out range. I then looked around at my exposed outlet covers, fire burning in the fireplace and two open staircases and said a silent little prayer that he’d make it out unscathed. Also, having not eaten with a toddler in awhile, I had forgotten how much fun to them the game of throw the cup (or spoon or fork or bowl or napkin) can be.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved being around both of my friends’ kids last night. It was so nice to hold and feed a tiny little baby again, and playing with a sweet little toddler was really enjoyable. . . . but so was getting a full eight hours of sleep last night after they had gone home.