A child’s innocent discovery of their sexuality often creates a parental fog. It’s a mind-teaser to help kids appreciate the natural blooming and balance the sensitivities that go along with those mysterious underparts.
Justin told me his cousin Megan doesn’t have a penis, she has a china. I immediately envisioned myself telling him someday, when he’s much older of course, don’t play with the china. Or, make sure it’s good china, but be sure not to break it. Yes, I like that word. Not anatomically correct but close enough in enunciation in an innocent, non-offensive way. Much better than the word we had growing up.
I believe children need to know the correct names for their body parts, but they don’t need to use them in everyday conversation. For example, their head is their noggin and their toes are their piggies. There’s no confusion about this. Why can’t we nickname the special musn’ttouchit parts too? We haven’t settled on a code word for penis. Peepee isn’t quite as eloquent as china, maybe we’ll make it the silver.
Our bedtime ritual includes loads of snuggle time, sharing the best parts of our day and squashing any disappointments with hugs and kisses. This is consistently the best part of my day. Last night, so completely exhausted, I neglected to put on my jammy bottoms and sported my best mother underwear. Mothers don’t count as girls, right?
They went berserk. “Mommy doesn’t have any pants on, just her panties, she’s a naughty girl,” my 3 year old teased. Shocked, I laughed.
“Can we see your china?”
I put on my jammy bottoms.
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