Tuesday, September 7, 2010

What the WHAT?

"What word are we using?" my ball & chain calls from the other room.
"What the hell is he talking about?" I think.


"WHAT WORD ARE WE USING?" he screams this time, opening the office door to look at me with intensity.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I say.


"The vagina. The VAGINA! What are we calling IT - the VAGINA?" he replies in such a way, I can not understand why out of left field simply asking me "what word are we using?" would immediately trigger me to think - oh he's talking private parts.


Truth be told, I've been thinking about this a lot because she's talking more, referring to things more, and  it's the parts she has, it's parts we have to talk about.


Confession time.


I'll admit it. I was going in the way of "ooh-la-la" or even a "woo-woo."  I first thought I was going the route of ooh-la-la because well, it's hysterical and fun and why the hell not? The more I thought about it though the more I realized it was funny but not funny.  I started to think about it. Should she feel uncomfortable using words properly just because I do?  Should she hide behind humor because sometimes that's what I do?  This whole parenting gig isn't always (ever) glamorous - but it is powerful.


"With power comes great responsibility." - Spiderman's uncle.


It's our responsibility to make sure she grows up a good kid and a better person. If she inherits our humor, so be it - I'm not thrilled of how much she might curse at the end of the day, but I hope she does laugh, A LOT. I hope the laughter doesn't comes from a place of hiding.  I need to model that behavior though and step out and shout it from the rooftops if I need to.


So vagina. vagina. vagina. That's what we are calling IT. Vagina. Vagina. Vagina.


(Last line very much inspirited by reading and listening to Dr.

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