The Talk…Gah

Since Little Man had some sick days to burn, I decided to let him take a couple of mental health days and take him to the beach. It was just the two of us — and I drove, all on my own with the assistance of my navigation system, and parked in a parking garage and got out and made it back home — and we had a lovely time. We talked on the entire 3.5-hour drive down there about everything under the sun, hung out by the beach/pool the whole day on Thursday, and talked most of the trip back home on Friday.

During all of that talking, Little Man told me about a scene in a book he was reading where one of the kids referenced their teaching doing sex education with them. He mentioned something about one of the kids passing out and wanted to know what would cause that reaction. I explained how a lot of kids’ parents don’t really talk to them about the appropriate names for their parts and how a lot of kids (at least everyone in my sixth grade class) act like hearing the words “penis” and “vagina” are simultaneously the most hilarious and scandalous thing of the century.

“Oh. Well, you’ve taught us that stuff…”

“Yep,” I said, feeling all proud of my awesome parenting skills (ignoring that I only started consistently using the proper names for their parts three-ish years ago), “it’s important for parents to be open and honest with their kids.”

“Oh, really?” Little Man asked, with a smirk on his face.

Son of a bitch. What did I just walk into? And did he set this up?

“Really.” Sigh.

“All right, then…now are you going to tell me where babies actually come from?”

Little bastard.

“Babies are delivered from a woman’s vagina or by C-section,” I said, but I knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. I’ve told him that women have the eggs and men have the fertilizer, so to speak, but I haven’t told him how that actually happens. And I definitely did not want to do that as we were waiting on the pizza delivery guy to bring our food.

“No, I know how they get out. I want to know how they get there,” he said, pointing at my belly.

Here we go.

“You might be a little young for this…” I never got The Talk, not officially. My grandmother told me that I could become pregnant at any time when I started my period, and my dad told me “guys want one thing and one thing only — don’t do it” when I was 16, but that was it. What’s the right age? Surely not 10?

“Mom, come on,” Little Man pleaded. “Just tell me. I already have theories.”


“Okay.” I gave him the details.

His response: “Wow…does that hurt?”

“Uh…generally, no it does not.”

Next question: “Well, what happens to the eggs that aren’t made into babies?”

I’m pretty sure I’d already touched on menstruation before, but I gave him the full recap, anyway.

“Wow, that’s so cool.” He was seriously impressed with the whole process of shedding the lining and stuff. He thought it was amazing that women’s bodies know exactly what to do every single month.

He then wanted to know about what age you should have sex. Godamighty, come on pizza guy. “I don’t know…it depends on the person. You should be old enough to understand all of the consequences and be able to make an informed decision. It’s not something to take lightly. And, also, some people want to wait until marriage for religious reasons, so you can if that’s something you feel strongly about, but if not, that’s fine. You just have to wait until the right girl comes along. Or guy,” I added, not wanting to send the wrong message.


“Well, you’re young and haven’t started going through puberty and having those thoughts and feelings yet, I don’t think, so when the time comes, you  may be attracted to guys. Or girls. I don’t know. Whichever sex you’re attracted to is fine, of course.”

He nodded and was quiet for a few moments.

Come on pizza guy, before he asks something else, for the love of God.

“Thank you for finally giving me answers,” Little Man told me. “Now I know that one of my theories was correct.”

“Ah…so this is what you put together?”

He nodded. “Yep. When you didn’t give me a straight answer before, I thought about everything that I know about men and women and how babies are made and came up with my own answers. My first theory was penis to vagina; my second theory was butt to butt; my third theory was penis to butt; my last theory was that maybe my balls…well, testicles, but I like to call them balls…had a device that would come out when it’s time to make a baby and be like a cannon that shoots the fertilizer at a woman’s eggs like cannonballs.”

I died laughing. When I relayed the conversation to my husband later, he said that was an image that would be burned into his memory forever. And I guess that’s as good a reason as any to go ahead and tell a kid how things happen when he asks — so he isn’t left thinking he has testicular cannons. Thank god he didn’t Google that.

I wrapped up The Talk by telling him to let me know if anymore questions come up and that I’ll be straight with him. He had no further questions at the time. The pizza came a few minutes later. He turned on the TV to a repeat of The Big Bang Theory, and for fuck’s sake, it was an episode talking about masturbating. By the grace of God, he didn’t ask about that.



Vent post ahead…

“No one wants you here.”
“No one likes you.”
“You’re not allowed to talk to us.”
“You’re stupid.
“You’re ugly.”
“You can’t do anything right.”

Those are comments that have been directed at Little Man by some of the kids in his class. 

Following speaking with Little Man’s teacher, the main bully who had been giving him trouble didn’t speak to him for the next four school days after that. I assumed whatever she was doing must have been helping, but shit happened again on Thursday.

They were playing a game with pool noodles in their gym class and the bully directed everyone to attack Little Man. Everyone didn’t, but the bully and his two “minions,” as LM calls them, got after him. He said they were hitting him super hard and that they wouldn’t stop when he told them it hurt and laughed. He said he whacked the bully hard once to show him how it felt and that the kid got mad and knocked him down. That was enough. We called the principal to set up an appointment to discuss the situation.

My husband and I both went in yesterday morning to talk. We went over everything, including all of the insults listed above, the exclusion, the bully encouraging other kids to pick on LM, and the few physical incidents that LM shared with us. (Apparently there has been a lot more going on than what he had been telling us, and that spilled out on Thursday. One of his friends came home with us that day and told us stuff he’d seen.)

The principal was appalled. He told LM that his number one job at the school was to make sure that he had a safe environment to learn in, and to always let the teachers know when this stuff is going on, and if the teachers don’t do anything, to let him know. That’s tough for LM since he’s received some mixed messages about that. A teacher he had a couple years ago wouldn’t let them report anything without taking certain steps to resolve conflict first (and I get that, but that shit doesn’t work with bullying behavior, and she treated it all the same.) He promised to call the bully’s parents and to pull him and the others into his office and talk. He said he was confident that this stuff was going to stop.

A few hours later, we got a call from LM, who was sobbing. He got into a fight with one of his friends on the playground. They were playing basketball and the friend kept elbowing him, and LM got mad and hit him in the stomach. The kid threw the basketball at LM’s face, and another friend got in between them and separated them and kept it from going further. I was floored that LM would hit someone over that (he’s only hit someone once that I can think of in his ten years). I mean, I know how frustrating that has to be, but still. I asked him why he punched him over that and he admitted that he was already upset when he went out on the court.

During lunch, they went outside to eat, and he dropped his whole slice of pizza in the dirt. The bully saw this, pointed it out, and had the other kids laughing at him and mocking him. He said the bully got in his face and laughed some more and told him he deserved every single bad thing that ever happened to him. LM said he pulled the teacher to the side and told her and that she walked over and said something to the kids, but that was it. He then went out to the court play basketball, and that happened.

That was one of the concerns I brought up to the principal during our meeting — that either the bully was really going to take things too far and hurt LM or that he was going to snap. And he did.

I fully expected the principal to say that LM was suspended next week, but he said he told them no more basketball for a week. Floored again. He chalked it up to being a game of basketball getting a little too heated and said that they were both good kids who had never been in trouble before, so he thought that was enough punishment. From what LM told me, I knew it was more than that. I told him about the situation at lunchtime, and the principal told me he hadn’t talked to the bully yet. He had called his mom already, but hadn’t gotten to him at that point.

Little Man told me that he and his friend apologized to each other and shook hands and hugged it out without being told to and were joking around on the way back to class. We talked a long time after LM got home about everything and about figuring out some exercises to help him calm down. I hope I’m handling this stuff right. I’ll follow up with the principal on Monday and see if he has talked to the bully.

Four more weeks.

While we were talking, LM went off on a tangent about another kid who told him a couple of weeks ago that his dad had been abusing him. He said the boy had bruises all over his back and that his dad had gotten mad at him and thrown him into a wall. This was the same kid who told LM some story about CPS being evil people who take kids from their parents and hurt them. Jesus. My husband called to make a report to CPS.

Batting .500

So, obviously I did not finish the A to Z Challenge on this blog. I completed a little over half of it and then fizzled out. I did finish it on the other blog, so batting .500 for the challenge isn’t too bad.

Two more weeks of school for Baby Girl.

Four more weeks for Little Man.

C’mon, end of the school year — stop dragging your ass and get here!

I’m going to do a bit of my randomness here and then catch up on some blog reading.

Saw the new Avengers film on Sunday. I was not a fan. That may be because I was totally caught off-guard with everything (I hadn’t read anything about the movie and only knew that Thanos was coming), so a second viewing may be in order. It did make me want to watch Dr. Strange, though. And it made me want to get as far away from the Guardians of the Galaxy as possible. (Most of the characters were interesting, but Star Lord was so fucking annoying that I’m not sure I’ll ever watch that.) It also reaffirmed my belief that Tom Holland is the best Spider-Man EVER.

I talked to Little Man’s teacher last week about the issues he’s been having. She knew there were some problems with those kids, but didn’t realize the extent of it with LM, so she’s on that now. She talked about a plan she has to break apart the clique, try to develop more compassion with them, and get the kids to treat each other decently (apparently LM isn’t the only one with issues with that group) by the end of the year. She’s throwing a Hail Mary, and hopefully it’ll work. He felt better after talking it out with her and said that the ring leader didn’t utter a word to him the past two school days, so maybe she had words with him.

Baby Girl had one of the best weeks that she’s had in a long time. Her tantrums decreased a lot, so hopefully that’ll continue. *Excuse me while I go knock on the biggest fucking piece of wood ever.* She also stopped biting her fingernails and grew them out enough for me to trim, so we’re going to Chuck E. Cheese sometime this week as a treat. Oh! And she tried three new foods on her own this past week. If it weren’t for her telling LM in the sweetest voice ever, “I really don’t even like you a little bit, so please go sit away from me” yesterday while she was eating, I’d think she was possessed.

We also booked a bounce house place for her birthday party, which is at the end of next month. Yes, next month. So long toddlerhood (even if you do still walk and run very much like one).

I’ve got a question for you guys — anyone have suggestions for good books to read? I’m thinking ahead to getting a few titles to take on our vacation.

S, T, U, and V are for…Nope

Smelly Turds, Ugly Vaginas?

Slack Tyrant Undermines Vagrant?

Nah, even I’m not skilled enough to pull something out of my ass for this catch up post. Unless you guys want me to do Smelly Turds, Ugly Vaginas, anyway. In which case, I could find some pictures on Google, share them, and possibly get my site shut down by WordPress.

I’m close to needing a people break. Sometimes it seems like everyone’s issues and drama just happen at the same time, and it’s hard to handle. I’d love to disconnect my phone, shut off my cell phone, and turn off the computer, making it impossible for anyone other than the people living in my house to get in touch with me for a full week. (Of course most of them live within 10 minutes and could pop in, so I’d have to build a moat, too.)

The boy is having a hard time in school. His former best friend really screwed him over in an effort to get other kids to stop picking on him. He started giving Little Man shit constantly to make himself look cool and get laughs out of the other kids. LM knew what he was doing and why and ignored it because he felt bad for him. Letting it slide ended up being the wrong move, since a clique of sorts has formed and now the kids that were giving the former friend shit are all piling in on LM.

I have a meeting with his teacher tomorrow. We’re thinking about moving him back to a regular school next year, for his last year of elementary school. We had been kicking the idea around already — it’d be nice for him to get used to being in a regular classroom and make some friends before middle school (he won’t go to the same middle school as the kids in his current school). Between finding out that the amazeballs teacher he was supposed to have next year is leaving and this thing, we’re leaning towards moving. We’re well aware that this shit happens everywhere, but it’d probably be a little easier on him to not be stuck with the same 15 people, with no options to form new friendships.

Four and a half weeks of school left for LM. Two and a half for Baby Girl. The Monday after he gets out, we’re going on a cruise. It’s going to be interesting to see how BG does. She goes from pretending like she’s in “The ‘Hamas” to talking about being too scared to go on a boat and how she’s gonna stay in the room the whole time. Girl, we’ve got an interior room, a very limited Internet connection, and no cable…we ain’t staying in that room outside of sleeping hours.

I booked a couple of excursions — snorkeling and a dolphin encounter. LM got to pick, and this is what he went with (after verifying that dolphins couldn’t eat humans if they wanted to). I was kinda hoping he’d go with Atlantis, but I told him he could pick before I read about Atlantis. It’ll just be LM and me for the dolphin thing, so yay for mom-son bonding time.

That’s all I’ve got now. See you guys for W, X, Y, and Z!

R is for Rekt

We have officially entered the phase where Little Man is embarrassed by his parents. Or at least me, anyway, and it’s so not for a reason I would’ve expected.

Lately he’s been talking about how corny everyone is. He regularly reports all of the corny puns or comments his teachers make. “Mrs. L said, ‘Full steam ahead, class!’ in STEAM today. Can you believe that? That is so corny. I just shook my head.”

A couple days ago, he had to use crutches because of a nerve problem that was making it hard for him to walk on his left leg. One of his teachers came out to talk to me about it while I waited in the car rider line and told me how she had asked what happened. She said that when he led up with, “I went to the doctor…” that she interjected with a joke, “And did he say ‘no more monkeys jumping on the bed?'” She said he didn’t get the joke (which sometimes happens because he’s so literal, which we have talked about before) and she had to explain that she was referencing the 5 Monkeys rhyme.

After LM came out and we left, I mentioned that the teacher stopped by to chat and then he launched into telling me about how she made the corniest joke at recess about his leg. “…and she said, ‘And did he say ‘no more monkeys jumping on the bed?'” Can you believe that, Mom? I just stared at her in disbelief that she would say something so corny.” Oh dear.

Today I was told how corny I am. 

“Ugh…Mom…it’s so corny when you say that your food is good,” he told me after we left the restaurant we had an early dinner at.

“What?” I was confused. What’s wrong with saying that your food is good?

“It’s just…when the waitress asked how your food was, you said it was really good.”

I still did not see the problem.

“If you can’t see how corny that is, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Little Man said.

I really thought he was bullshitting me at first, but no.

“The waitress asked how the food was. The food was good. I told her so. How on earth is this a negative thing?”

“It’s just corny! You said it was good with voice.”

Fucking hell. “What kind of voice?”

He copied me. “It’s really good!” he said in what seemed to be a happy, polite tone, which is exactly the way you’d act if your food was good and you were enjoying it.

“It’s just corny,” he reiterated.

“How could I have expressed that the food was good in a less corny way?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Just not like that.”

Good grief.

“So…was that as corny as you talking about ‘getting rekt’ all the time?” I asked. Boom. Roasted.

“Hey! No one thinks ‘rekt’ is corny,” he protested.

“Oh, yeah, they do,” I told him. “Anyone outside the ages of 9 and 12 definitely thinks that’s corny. Actually, it’s worse than corny — it’s cringey. And dabbing is, too.” Boom. Roasted again.

He huffed. “Just forget it.”

Hopefully I don’t embarrass him with my politeness again. And hopefully he’ll stop saying “rekt” and dabbing 50 times per day. If that happens, then being told that I’m corny will be worth it.