Saturday, August 1, 2015
NoMoYe
Some people take a month to write a novel. This is my month to try not to yell. NoMoYe- No more yelling! This will be a challenge, but such a blessing if and when I succeed. How will I measure this success? I would guess that I would witness less yelling coming back my way. More later and wish me luck.
Three going on thirteen, questions, questions, questions. . .
It was that time of the month, and of course I had run out of the goods. I headed to our local CVS to purchase both types of female products and upon my return home, I became distracted by the kitty cuteness that greeted me at the back door, leaving the plastic bag with the goods on the bench.
It was at that time that Honeypie came to say hello.
HP: Oh, good! I need these for my birthday (holding the bag of tampons).
Me: (Turning around, almost choking on my cup of cold coffee) For your birthday? HoneyPie, those are tampons, you do not need tampons until you are older.
HP: No. I need tampons for my birthday.
Me: Sweetie, those are for when you are older and you have your period.
HP: (Clutching her parts and in an intense voice) I am having my period.
Then, the marathon began. There went my daughter, clutching the bag of unscented supers as she ran full speed around the house, me in tow. How ridiculous. So she throws the tampons to the ground, and I think to myself "whew, this is over" and there HP goes, the baton this time in the form of maxi pads.
Flash forward to dinner time several hours later, when to my husband's chagrin, Ladybug began launching into questions about getting your period: how did I know I first got it? When did I get it? Do the twins have it? How will I get the tampons in and out? Does it hurt? What do breast changes have to do with this? Both girls were rapt in attention at my responses.
I looked at my husband. He was shoveling the Parmesan covered shells into his mouth at a pace where I could only wonder if he was actually employing his tastebuds. If I had to guess, I would have guessed that he was grateful that we actually had another male I the house, even though it was the feline type.
It was at that time that Honeypie came to say hello.
HP: Oh, good! I need these for my birthday (holding the bag of tampons).
Me: (Turning around, almost choking on my cup of cold coffee) For your birthday? HoneyPie, those are tampons, you do not need tampons until you are older.
HP: No. I need tampons for my birthday.
Me: Sweetie, those are for when you are older and you have your period.
HP: (Clutching her parts and in an intense voice) I am having my period.
Then, the marathon began. There went my daughter, clutching the bag of unscented supers as she ran full speed around the house, me in tow. How ridiculous. So she throws the tampons to the ground, and I think to myself "whew, this is over" and there HP goes, the baton this time in the form of maxi pads.
Flash forward to dinner time several hours later, when to my husband's chagrin, Ladybug began launching into questions about getting your period: how did I know I first got it? When did I get it? Do the twins have it? How will I get the tampons in and out? Does it hurt? What do breast changes have to do with this? Both girls were rapt in attention at my responses.
I looked at my husband. He was shoveling the Parmesan covered shells into his mouth at a pace where I could only wonder if he was actually employing his tastebuds. If I had to guess, I would have guessed that he was grateful that we actually had another male I the house, even though it was the feline type.
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