When Kids Have Questions About Private Parts

I was going through my old emails at work today and came across some fairly entertaining ones I've sent to BH over the years.  Here's one about P, who was 7 at the time.

From: Number Whisperer

Sent: Thursday, April 05, 2007 4:13 PM

To: Better Half

Subject: the birds and the bees

P asked me yesterday why we have privates.  I told him they’re for making babies.  He didn’t understand, duh, so I explained that to make a baby, the half from mommy and the half from daddy has to come from inside their bodies...it’s not like we can just buy the ingredients and cook up a baby in the kitchen.  And the only way this stuff can combine to make the baby is by using the private parts.

I can’t believe it, but he didn’t even ask HOW.  And I wasn’t going to push it.

I’m sure more questions will follow.

I have a feeling P didn't ask any follow up questions, because he had no idea what I was talking about. Either that or the imagery shocked him speechless.

The Trouble With January Birthdays

A few weeks back, M turned seven, and like any other six year old, he had been looking forward to the big day, oh, since about a week after his last birthday.  Completely disregarding the fact that Christmas was only 23 days earlier, he was practically salivating at the thought of what he might receive in gifts.

Have I mentioned that work has been crazy lately?  It has, since October.  And between Christmas and his birthday, I barely had time to breathe, let alone plan a special day for him, which is how January 16th rolled around, and I had yet to purchase a single gift for him.  

His birthday is the 17th.  Totally my fault, I know.  I should've planned better.  So when the night before his birthday appeared (out of nowhere) and BH called from the freeway to see if I had bought anything, I felt a twinge of guilt saying,"oh no!  I didn't yet (yet, ha).  Did you?"

I only asked him in the hopes that he would shoulder some of the guilt with me.  But he and I both know full well that birthday planning is my job.

So the night before M's birthday, 3 weeks after Christmas, BH hit every toy store in the county.  He returned at 9pm with a video game and a hot dog toaster. 

Really?  A hot dog toaster?  And yes, the Christmas decorations are still out.  More about that later.

Turns out the toy inventories had not yet been replenished so soon after Christmas.  I guess I had never noticed before, probably because I had never been in the position to need a bunch gifts on short order.

So it's 9 o'clock, the night before his birthday.  I had to think quick.  How was I going to save this one?

M, who had been counting down to the big day since Thanksgiving, was pumped for his birthday, which would be arriving in less than 12 hours.

Me:  "M, since tomorrow is a school day, you'll only get to open one gift in the morning."

M:  "Ok, Momma.  Can I pick which present to open?"

Me: "No, Daddy and I get to chose for you."

M:  "Ok!"

The next morning, M opened up his hot dog maker and marveled at his new appliance.  It was decided that he would cook dinner for us on his birthday.  Thank goodness, because I  had also forgotten to plan dinner or dessert.

The toaster diversion bought me some time.  I would need a miracle, but I was determined to find him some birthday presents.

Enter  TJ Maxx.

Who would've thought that TJ Maxx, of all places, would have a ton of Star Wars figures and other 7-year-old-boy appropriate toys less than a month after Christmas?  I've been in this store nuuumerous times in the last 6 years, and I've never known them to carry good toys.  But I wasn't going to question it.  I scooped up everything in sight and loaded up the minivan.

So I did it.  Shopped, wrapped, picked up groceries for dinner, baked monkey bread AND put in a full day at the office (or at least that's the story I'm sticking to).

When I picked him up from child care that night, he was so excited to come home and begin celebrating.

As we're walking up the path to the front door, he turns to me and says:

"Momma, you remembered to keep the Christmas decorations for my birthday!  Thank you Momma!"

You're welcome M, you're welcome.

Shooting Hoops

M had his first basketball game last weekend.  He's in the 5-7 boy/girl age group, and not one kid on this team looks like they've ever played basketball before.  

This makes for some good sports-viewing.

I've seen plenty of 1st grader soccer games in my life, and those are fun...it's like a swarm of bees traveling around the field, with legs flying left and right.  Basketball is even better. The addition of the ball being bounced and thrown brings an element of slapstick to an already chaotic situation.  

M has been watching his brothers play basketball for the past 3 years, and he was practically giddy at the thought of donning a uniform and "shooting some hoops" (somehow it's adorable when those words come from chubby cheeks).

P is assistant coach to M's team, which makes my heart swell with pride.  He lines them up and starts them with stretching exercises.  For an hour and a half, Coach P is all patience and kindness.  He's on his way to becoming a man, it's happening right before my eyes.

M played all four quarters.  I'd like to say it was because he was such a valuable player, but at this age, if you have two legs, you're as valuable as the next kid.  He did have a few notable moments, however.  In the 2nd quarter, he attempted to pass the ball and succeeded in pegging a teammate in the head.  

At close distance.  

Like, as in, one foot away.  

It was pretty funny, but I couldn't laugh too much, because some people have no sense of humor about those kinds of things.

Here's his other standout moment.  Notice his dribbling skills.  

Even with a dribble to the face, he keeps on going.

Rugers, STDs, and Public Transportation

How was my trip to Georgia, you ask?

It was pretty good.  Memorable, even.  I don't know if it was the Ruger flashed in the minivan or the STD comment made by the innocent boy-genius or the fall I took in the MARTA.  Whatever it was, a good time was had by all.

Notice that death-like grip?  There's a reason for that.

The "business" part of this business trip was nothing to write home (or on a blog) about.  Work is work.

In my usual (as of late) lazy blogger style, I'm going to bullet a few of the more interesting parts of the trip.

• LAX is a people-watcher's dream come true.  Did you know that there are still women out there with permed mullets?  Poodle in the front, Lhasa Apso in the back
• For some, 7:30 in the morning is not too early for a mixed drink :(
• Pitch Perfect is maybe the worst movie I've sat through in 15 years.  Not counting kid's movies, of course...I have no choice but to sit through those
• There IS such a thing as too much cheesecake
• Public transportation in Atlanta is scary; don't let anyone convince you otherwise
• You've got to try the public transportation in Atlanta at least once in your life
• The World of Coca Cola attraction in Atlanta felt like a huge rip off
• The CNN tour was fun, mostly because my expectations were low
• No one was interested in eating a peach while in Georgia, nor were they interested in singing Alan Jackson on the bank of the Chattahoochee.  Heathens.
• I learned that Twin Peaks and Tilt a Kilt are giving Hooters a run for their money
• I had a star sighting at ATL airport

No really, I saw the REAL Terrence Howard.  I also saw this sign of him.  Both times, our eyes met.

• Centennial Park looks a bit like a cemetery

Creepy, right?

• Worst Coke drink EVER is Beverly from Italy

Trust me.  This stuff is nasty.

• Buckhead has some nice buildings to photograph

I feel like this post could've been way more exciting, given the stories that have come from this trip.  Unfortunately, work is currently sucking every ounce of creativity out of me, which is odd, considering all I do is crunch numbers for a living.

Perhaps my next post will be more entertaining.

Next Time You're In Atlanta, Try the Sushi

I never would've thought I'd come away from Georgia with a new favorite Sushi place.  But I have.

Before.

After.

Ru San's in Buckhead, you make a mean sashimi plate.

Every Office Has Its Secrets

My Georgia associates don't mess around.

Are The Peaches Really Better in Georgia?

I'm going to Atlanta next week for work.  Instead of blogging, I should be documenting the genius insights I will be imparting unto the gathered masses, but that would be no fun.  Instead, I'm going to share my thoughts on this upcoming excursion.

• BH is going to be on his own with our three terrors from Monday through Thursday night.  This means he is going to be stressed out about having to leave work more than an hour early every day so that he can get home with enough time to pick everyone up from after-school care.  Nothing takes the shine off a vacation, er business trip, more than knowing that my better half is going to be glaring at me when I return.
• The thought of walking through metal detectors in my bare (or socked) feet makes me queasy.  I wouldn't normally consider myself a germaphobe, but I can't help but wonder just how nasty that portion of the ground is. There has to be some research findings published on it somewhere.  If not, someone needs to find themselves a grant and get moving.  I suspect that, next to airport bathrooms, the dirtiest place in the world might just be the ground surrounding the metal detectors at LAX.  Honestly, I obsess over that path.  I'm considering taking a throwaway pair of socks.  Or two.  You know, for the return trip.
• My flight is at 6am, which  means the shuttle will insist they must pick me up at 3am.  That's gonna be rough.
• I'm traveling alone, which is good.  I prefer to travel alone.
• My coworkers and I are taking a tour of CNN when we get in.  I was inordinately excited about this excursion, mostly because BH is a CNN junkie.  When I got home to rub it in, his response wasn't exactly what I was hoping for:  

BH:  "I don't care about Altanta.  I want to go to CNN New York."

Me:  "There's no CNN New York, it's in Atlanta."

BH:  "Anderson Cooper is in New York.  That would be the good one to go to."

Me:  "What?!?  You're right.  You know you could've just let me have my moment."

BH:  "Hey, you were trying to rub it in, that's what you get."

Me:  "If you really loved me, you would've let me make you feel bad."

• Richard Blais from Top Chef has a burger place in Atlanta.  I'm doing everything I can to get the group to take me there.  The nutella and burnt marshmallow shake sounds like something I need to try before I die.

• I've saved the best for last.  Guess what river made world famous by a certain Alan Jackson runs through Georgia?  That's right, the CHATTAHOOCHEE!!!  Or "the hooch," as the locals call it.  I really don't know anymore about the Chattahoochee than what I've learned from listening to Mr. Jackson sing about it, but it's enough to have me weak in the knees at the thought of catching a glimpse of it.  Rumor has it, I may be disappointed, but how bad can it be with lyrics like this?

Way down yonder on the Chattahoochee

It gets hotter than a hoochie coochie

We layed rubber on the Georgia asphalt

We got a little crazy, but we never got caught

Pure poetry.

Pictures will be taken.  And maybe shared.