I'm NOT ready for this!!!

I always thought I would have no problem when it came to discussing the facts of life with my kids.  My mum was incredibly open... probably sharing a weeny bit more than I really cared to know... actually a whole truck load more than I could ever have wanted or needed to know!

But this morning as my six and a half year old was eating his cornflakes, he casually asked, "So... how DO babies actually get out of the mums tummy?"  I froze.  My insides tensed, convulsed, quivered and contracted - yep, even a little bit of vomit came up into my throat (see that sharing-too-much thing is hereditary sometimes...).

On the outside I was cool as a cucumber - staring straight ahead, out the window, completely intrigued by what I saw... grass.  So I went for a swift change of subject: "Man, that grass is GREEEEEN today?  Isn't it?  Look at that grass, would you?  Good stuff grass.  You should really look at the grass more mate.  Anyway, how are your cornflakes going?  Eating them up?  Yep?  Good boy.  Gosh is that the time, I better go and... do something... in my room... I'll be awhile... you, ah, just finish up your cornies.  Good boy."

I hastily retreated to my room.  He's six.  The worst thing about six year old boys is their short attention span.  For the first time in my life, I was soooo grateful for that lacking attention span.  Crisis averted, all was good in the world, he would forget this conversation and we could wait to have it at a more appropriate time.  Like, when he's... married.  His wife can tell him.

I walked back into the kitchen where Mr Six was putting his plate in the sink (very well trained - I take FULL credit).  "Good boy!  Now quickly go and get your school bag and let's get organized for school."  Then it happened.  He eyeballed me in a way that he never has before and my toes went cold with fear... I knew it was coming.  "But Mum, you still didn't tell me how the baby gets out of the mums tummy - and I need to know."  AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!  I'm not ready for this!!!!!!  (I thought this, I didn't scream it at him - although I felt like it.)

I did manage to look grumpy and impatient enough to put him off though (I know, I'm a meanie - my three year old tells me that daily).

I rang the hubby.  "He wants to know HOW the babies get out." I said. "Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!" Said hubby.  NOT the right response.

A discussion ensued where we agreed that it's better he hears it from people he loves and who can tell him the real facts, before he hears it from someone at school blah, blah, blah.   So we figure my mum is the best person... just kidding.  Kind of.

I dropped him off at school and then immediately went and bought a book.  It frightens me.  It has a picture (a vague pencil sketch in pastel colors) of a baby emerging from between a ladies legs - you can't see the ACTUAL, well, you know... 'it'.  But you can tell it's coming out from between her legs.  It talks all about love and all that stuff, but I just can't get past the picture.  My child will KNOW.  As much as we tell him not too, he's bound to tell other kids (I remember going to school armed with similar information - I had kids coming from other schools to glean from my seemingly infinite 'sexing' wisdom).  So I'm responsible for someone else's child too!!  It's endless!!!

Ohhhh, I feel sick.  I need cake.

Soooo, I did it...

And here I am... blogging.  I've thought about this a lot, but never actually got around to doing it!  


I don't actually have anything particularly interesting to say right now - I'm actually sitting in the dark hallway with my laptop on my lap (ahhhh that's where the name came from!  How about the 'top' part then...? )  waiting for my 3 year old to go to sleep.  If I move, he'll get out of bed.   But I'm starving.  And busting to pee.  And my wine is juuuuust out of arms reach.  So yeah, great to time to start my blog!


I can hear the sound of something yummy being unwrapped in the lounge by either my hubby or 6 year old... how cruel!  Don't they know I'm starving?!  Not in the literal sense of the word, I could go for months without food with not even the slightest whisper of actual starvation.. but in the sense of "I've got smoked salmon, capers, pasta and mascarpone waiting for me" (hence the 'no risk of starving').


Okay, the breathing sounds deep and there's been no movement for a good 4 minutes... I think he's sleeping... yay!!  Now it's decision time - pee, food, wine - I'm pretty sure that's the best order... actually - wine, pee, food, wine.  Perfect.