The mom of one of Miss M’s classmates had a baby this week; it was announced on the bulletin board outside of gan, as is the custom.
On our walk home, which can take quite a while if AM is feeling ornery, Miss M started to quiz me about her classmate’s new sister, and her removal from her mommy’s “tummy.”
“Actually,” [and here I took a deep breath, thinking that Taxman might not be pleased about this] “the baby grows in a place called the uterus. From the outside it looks like the baby is in the mommy’s tummy, but it’s actually the uterus that holds the baby and grows bigger and bigger.”
Now THIS was interesting to her.
“Where is it?” she asked. “The uterus?”
“When there’s no baby inside, it’s low down, in your pelvis.”
Naturally, I expected a whole torrent of questions, from where your pelvis is located to how, exactly, the baby gets in there. But here, HERE is the blessing of living with Miss M. When the spotlight gets hot, she gets distracted. Flowers, litter, clouds, dogs, street signs–anything that enters her line of sight–will pull her attention. Normally this makes her difficult to live with, but in this case, on a windy, chilly Wednesday afternoon and another block to make it home, her mind was transported elsewhere within seconds and I could concentrate on herding us all across the street.
I’m sure we’ll revisit this soon. Or maybe I’ll pass the buck; I’ll bet there is a six year old wandering close by who KNOWS the score.
NB: Part of my hesitation is that the way things work around here is that if she knows, so does he. It’s hard to imagine having this conversation with someone whose cheeks are so chubby.