I’m going to begin this post with an apology. If the word “vagina” bothers you, turn away right now, you’re going to hear it A LOT, you’ll be horrified!
In an effort for our kids to know that all of our body parts are equally important and that there is nothing wrong with any of them, in our house we use the correct terminology. I’m sorry if you call it a pee-pee or a who-ha, and call it whatever you want at your house, but THAT DRIVES ME NUTS and here we call it what it is!
I’ve heard that developmentally there’s something about nearly four year old girls and their vagina, they like to talk about it a lot. And really, why not? They pretty much take care of themselves, they’re neatly packaged, they spring forth HUMAN BEINGS and they’re pink! What’s not to love?
My cousin's little girl told her Mom and Dad a story about a vagina that fell out of the car and kept going, it was like a real live super hero! Perhaps it's just genetic to my family but if the subject comes up it does seem like lots of moms have similar stories. Well, as you know, in my house there are TWO nearly four year old girls so you can just imagine.
We're driving to Missouri and out of nowhere Olivia yells "ROYAL VAGINA", mainly I was just surprised that she knew the word "royal" but Aidan laughed and a star was born. Twenty minutes later Livi had composed an entire song about the "royal vagina" and by the end of the weekend there were several verses and Aidan was singing back up. It was actually pretty catchy. Eventually, there was a king vagina and a princess vagina involved and finally we had to have a talk when Gracie called her brother a “vagina sandwich”.
I’m a little bit of the school of thought that if you make a big deal out of it, it will become a big deal so I pretty much ignored it and tried really hard not to sing along. My husband, Dan, should probably get some sort of award for his patience during the vagina monologue weekend. I know it makes him cringe and I’m pretty sure this entire blog entry will make him want to crawl in a hole and wonder how in the world he ended up with such a disturbed person. Most likely, if Aidan wouldn’t have laughed, we’d be past it by now. I have to tell you, I’m glad he did. These are the stories you remember when your kids are forty, just ask your Mom.