Mind Your P's and V's

It would appear that things have slowed down in my world, considering my last post was just about two months ago. On the contrary...life with two kids is busier, funnier, and more ridiculous than ever. I find myself constantly laughing at the things that come out of my toddler's mouth or shaking my head in disbelief. Add a baby girl who thinks her jibber-jabber is God's gift to us all and you have one loud household. I'm telling ya...if you're looking to add noise and sheer lunacy to your home, add another kid.

Speaking of ridiculous...I'm not well-versed on the age when kids start asking those super-awkward questions about anatomy. I figured when my number was called up and my kids got curious, I'd be totally cut-and-dry with them. Better they get the real story on the bod from me, right? That sounds all well and good, but I had no clue my two-year old would start cross-examining me so soon! All of a sudden, "Mama, what's that?" is the hot new question when I get barged in on at all hours of the day. (Thankfully this happens to the hubby as well. Solidarity, my love.) So here we are...it's time to teach my sweet little voyeur what's what in the boy vs. girl world.

Barrett was quick to catch on to the word for the male...hmmm...tool? (This is far more awkward to write than I was expecting and those who know me are fully aware that I'm not modest. I'm just picturing the most sweet, devout blue-haired Baptist lady reading this. I think I'm sweating.) When he says it, it sounds a lot like "peanuts". Love that Texas drawl! I wanted to start with that particular word since it's something he's pretty familiar with and will be for a rather long time. Here's where it gets problematic...

The other day I was quickly trying to use the restroom because living with a child means only one thing. You have a very short window of time before that bathroom door flies open with hurricane-wind force and you have a very unwelcome guest who's, conveniently, eye-level with the throne upon which you sit.

"Mama, you have a *peanuts*."
"No I don't, bud."
"Mama, you have a *peanuts*!!!"
"Barrett, I don't. I promise!" (What in the world did he see down there?!?)
"Mama, YOU HAVE A *PEANUTS*!!!" (He was literally crying at this point. If I'm lying, I'm dying.)

Thanks to that little altercation, I was forced to school Barrett on the correct term for lady-parts down yonder. My word, it's like that book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie". You give the mouse a cookie and then it wants some milk. You give a two-year old the name for one body part and it's just not enough. He needs to know them all! The x-rated ones, anyway. And the fun is only beginning. Now that Tiny Man is working with some real knowledge, he enjoys telling friends and family what parts they have. To his credit, he's right about 90% of the time. It's pretty impressive. (I apologize to those who have been incorrectly diagnosed by my son. Nothing personal.) However, you probably aren't interested in coming over to our house for dinner and having a crumb-cruncher discuss your nether regions. In fact, I'm guessing we'll be seeing far less of our loved ones until Barrett is old enough to stop barging into bathrooms.