Tuesday, May 05, 2009

The Question

I'm was at work and stepped away from my desk for a minute, and when I get back I was given the following message from Amanda in my office:
Ms. Ashley of Lunch Bunch (this is the little hour-long day care we use 2 days per week that is available just prior to Sami's preschool class where they each bring their lunch, eat together, and then go play together) called, and Sami just threw up during lunch. But she's got her color back and she seems okay.
Me: Did she leave a number?
Amanda: She wasn't sure what it was. (huh?) But they were leaving to head to the ECE classroom in 10 minutes anyway. She said you might just want to call the school office.
Me: Thanks, Amanda. (mutter, mutter at Lunch Bunch lady for not leaving me a number)

I dialed the school office and told them the situation; that I'm just trying to determine what happened and maybe talk to Sami. They first try the room where Lunch Bunch is held, but they've already left. And then they try the ECE room, but I figure they're out gathering the kids in the hall to bring them in. I'm only 15 minutes from the school at my office, so I decide I'll drive over. I'm certain I'm not leaving her in school for the remainder of the day anyway. So instead of wasting time trying to call them, I'll just head over there.

When I get there she's already in the classroom at the back, smiling with her bff Zaria. When I walk in her teacher smiles, but seems perplexed as to my presence. So I quietly say to Mrs. Teacher, "I hear someone got sick at Lunch Bunch." She looked surprised, and goes, "Oh really. They didn't tell me that when they dropped her off." You could tell it kind of irritated her. Anyway, by that time Sami had spotted me and as soon as she did, against the backdrop of my breaking heart, her chin began to tremble and I could see the tears just beneath the surface. My brave little girl was holding it together in front of her public, but I could tell she really wanted her mom. I walked over and hugged her, and said, "I hear you got sick, Honey." She just nodded -- I think she knew if she talked she'd cry. I said, "That's okay. Go get your stuff and you can just come home with Mom now. We'll make a nest and relax and then you can come back to school tomorrow." She protested just a little bit, but I reminded her that she didn't want to make her friends sick and then she seemed to be relieved to get to leave with me.

Thank God I went to get her because sure enough, I had her nested in a blanket surrounded by her stuffed animals when about an hour later she got an awful look on her face and said, "Mom, I think I have to throw up again." Poor little thing. All she'd done was take about 2 sips of juice. I said, "Can you make it to the bathroom?" And she shook her head -- I ran for the kitchen and grabbed a big ol' bowl, and while the first round went on the floor we "caught" the second round. She had nothing to throw up but juice so it wasn't as awful as it can be, but I felt miserable for her as I held her hair back for her.

I cleaned her all up, and grabbed blankets and animals and headed for the washing machine. Got her fresh clothes, and all that. Then made sure she was comfortable and went downstairs to do a little work on the computer.

Later -- feeling a little better -- she wandered down. She goofed around nearby for a while, then came over and said, "Momma. How do doctors make our bodies?"
Me: Do you mean like when we're babies?
Her: Yes.
Me: Oh, well doctors don't make our bodies. They just deliver the babies.
Her: Then who makes our bodies?
Me: Well, mommies and daddies make babies.
Her: So my body, and Daddy's body, and your body, and Jazzy's body? They all come from mommies and daddies?
Me: Yep. You know Grandma Grace... remember? She's my mom. And she's Aunt Bec's mom. And my dad isn't with us anymore. And you remember Daddy's dad, "Granddad," right? He died too. And Daddy's mommy is gone too.
Her: Daddy's mommy died too? I didn't know that.
Me: Yep, that happened before I even knew your daddy -- years and years ago.
Her: (thinking)
Her: What about Jazzy's body? (our dog)
Me: Jazzy had a mommy and daddy too. We don't know them, they live on a farm somewhere and we never met them, but sure enough -- even Jazzy had a mommy and daddy that made her.
Her: Okay.

And off she went. I was kind of relieved she didn't dig any deeper because I hadn't yet comtemplated how I was going to handle The Question. Anyway, I didn't think it would come up at her age. Seems like she'd get older before she'd need more detail. You'd think.

Later, I cautiously fed her a piece of toast and it stayed down. I could tell she really needed to rest but I knew the suggestion of a nap would be met with resistance. So I said, "You know what? I think maybe I'm not feeling so great now. I think I'm going to go lie down for a bit on our bed and watch some tv. Do you want to come with me?" She did, and I closed the curtains to darken the room, turned the tv on really low, and gently tickled her back. Worked like a charm, and she ended up taking a nearly 2 hour nap. Just what she needed.

We got up later and she had some soup. Again, success at keeping it down. Then I was helping her do something or other, and she goes, "Mom, your shirt smells puky. Why didn't you wipe it off?" I just said, "Honey, I've changed my shirt. It isn't my shirt -- I think it is your hair. Wouldn't you like to just rinse off in the shower so that smell is completely gone for you? Your animals and Nemo blanket are all fresh and clean now. She agreed and then afterwards I was folding laundry in our room and half-watching some tv. It had been an exhausting day, and I had been knee-deep in laundry even before I got to add in all the pukey stuff I had to wash.

And here it came...
Her: Mom? How do mommies and daddies make babies?
Me: (oh geez) Well, when they love each other very much they touch in a special way and that's how a baby gets started.
Her: Oh. Okay.
(tick, tick, tick)
Her: But what parts do they touch?

This is my child. She is like me in the most annoying way. I know that vague or cutesy answers are not going to satisfy her. So I figure I'll plunge right in...

Me: Well, boys have a penis...
Her: I know that.
Me: (taken aback...) You do?
Her: Yes. I've seen Daddy's when he gets in the shower. (We're modest around our house, but not to the degree that she never sees us naked obviously.)
Me: And you knew it was called a penis?
Her: Well no. I didn't know that.
Me: Well anyway, and women have a vagina -- and that's what they touch together.
Her: Oh.
(tick, tick, tick)
Her: Where's a vagina?
Me: (demonstrating...) Down by your bits. (I know -- I didn't set out to call our privates that, it just evolved. Shut up.)
Her: Oh.
Her: Okay.
And away she went.

I was thinking about it later and realized that, like, she's never seen herself down there. Ya know? So I told her the next day, "Remember when we were talking about your vagina? First of all, you know that's a very private area, right?" (Nod.) "Well, sometime when we have time, I'll get a mirror and you can look down there at your private area, and you can see how everything looks, okay?" "Okay, Mom."

I don't know if all that was prompted by some bit of playground talk, or if she just thought it up on her own to ask me about it. But I was very matter-of-fact about it all, and I hope I approached it in a way that left her feeling like she could ask me about anything she wants, and that I'll answer her honestly. It was quite the day.

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