Kaya Cracks Me Up

Yes, it is that time again. Those funny things that kids say that you jot down here there and everywhere, compiled into one cutesy blog post.

***

“Mom, is that a maggot finding glass?”

***

“Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“I just had a spoofer and I smelled it.”

“Umm, that’s nice…”

“Not nice Mom! STINKY!”

***

“My belly just spoofered!” She means gurgled.

Thank you Pat for being Kaya’s farting Thesaurus. Spoofer wins again.

***

“Brenn-Brenn smells like sneeze… EWWWWWW!!!!”

I have never processed that sneezes have a smell. But they do. And Brenn-Brenn does. Ew.

***

Kaya comes upstairs with tears flowing and lips quivering.

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t want to eat my dinner and Daddy got mad at me.”

“Well, eating your dinner is important so you can be healthy and strong.”

“But I’m not hungry” Sob, sob…

Assuming he has made her something she doesn’t like, I ask, “What did Daddy make you?”

“Sad…”

***

Dinner is being eaten. Grilled cheese. Nothing else is memorable. Until Kaya pipes up, out of nowhere, with no warning or any indication WHATSOEVER of what is about to come.

“How did Brennyn get out of your belly?”

With a look that communicates ‘And please, do not tell me you went to the hospital and the doctor helped you get it out, because I’ve heard that before. I mean how did he help you get it out?’

So my age-appropriate answer to that question, that I had rehearsed from my pregnancy days, is no longer valid I guess. She is a week away from 4 years old. Which requires a whole new level of understanding. Only, I have NOT prepared myself for this. I have no idea how to answer her.

I stare dumbfounded.

Bal laughs outright.

Kaya becomes distracted. I am hoping it’s a true distraction and not an embarrassed distraction. There is no resolution.

In fact, I forget completely about it. Dinner is finished, there is playing, there are baths, and finally bed. At no point do I remember the question or formulate an answer. It is though I am blocking it out of my realm of reality. Oh, if only it were so easy.

Girls asleep, I decide to have a shower. Forgive the visual, but I undress and something in the mirror catches my attention. It is a sticker. On my nether regions. A teeny tiny sticker, down there that says QC 180.

The sticker on my finger, not my nether regions thank you very much.

Now it is my turn to laugh outright. I have been quality controlled? Down under?

And that’s when it comes back to me. Kaya’s question. I can not avoid it forever. I have to explain how they got out of my belly. Stepping into the shower, I brainstorm 4-year-old-appropriate explanations. But they all come out sounding like I pooped Brenny out. Which I guess, I kinda did. And which would actually appeal to the four-year-old mindset. But pooping out babies? This could traumatize the girl forever! I’d like to be a grandparent one day too.

I still have no clue what to say. Or where that bloody sticker came from.

But since I believe in signs, it would be negligible to ignore this one. Quality Control. In the V zone. Numbered 180.

Screaming at me to do a complete turnaround obviously. No pooping out baby story then. Damn.

So now what?

Help…

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3 thoughts on “Kaya Cracks Me Up

  1. Damn! That is funny!

    So, seriously we have had this conversation a few times now. I was flat out “you’re getting the real deal” story when I responded the first time. (I once attended a workshop on Talking to Kids about Sex, etc that motivated this idea).
    So I say this.
    The baby comes from a special hole in your vulva (another workshop inspired term that she is very familiar with by now).
    Its a special hole that only mamas have and its between the hole were the pee comes from and the hole that the poop comes from.
    That’s it. She looks at me, giggles and then insists that I still pooped her and Karis out, all the while giving me a scrunched up nose look on her face, a stuck out bum and farting noises coming from her mouth.

    One day she’ll get it. But that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it.

    I am still trying to figure out my answer to “How does a baby get IN your tummy?” To which, “Hugging Daddy for a long time, because I love him so much” just doesn’t cut it for me.

    Maybe we can talk this one out over coffee at the park one day! ; )

  2. Yes, what you said is what I was formulating in my head. Except the word vulva. Kaya knows vagina really well. At dinner at Gammy’s house she announces “We eat our food and it goes down to our belly’s and then to our vagina!” Perhaps she needs some further anatomy lessons.

    Oh god, I’m really, really not ready for how the baby got inside explanation. Akkkk! Perhaps we can talk this one out over wine preferably!

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