There are a lot of ideas and concepts in the world that can be hard for kids to comprehend. We have never been ones to keep much from our kids, we talk about life and death often and are very open with them about current events and answer any questions they have about life and the world truthfully with as much detail as we feel they are mature enough to understand.
But every once in a while they will catch me off guard and say something or ask me a question that demonstrates the innocence of how their little minds are processing the world.
When my daughter was three and a half, we visited Glendalough, an old monastery outside Dublin where we were living at the time. We explained to her that Monks used to live there. After a while we realized this is the vision she had of what it used to be like:
Most all of the preschools in Ireland consider themselves to be Montessori programs and we have a cat named Monk. So she was imagining a bunch of cats in preschool!
When my Gran’ma died, she was cremated. My girls (then just turned 4 and 6) had been to funerals for hubby’s two grandparents that year as well so were familiar with caskets and burials but when we tried to explain that Great-Gran’ma wouldn’t be in a big box but rather a vase, they became confused. We talked about the process of cremation and at one point my older daughter asked:
“but how do they get her in the oven? She’s way too big!”
She was imagining our poor Gran’ma being folded up and shoved into a regular kitchen oven!
Hubby’s daddy underwent a much needed kidney transplant last summer thanks to a generous family friend who gave him one of hers. About a week before the surgery, after many months of talk leading up to it, discussing nearly every part of the procedure including how they would need to stitch him up when they were done, she asked:
“Mommy, will they just put Grandpa in the sewing machine when they’re done to sew him back together?”
Apparently we hadn’t been very clear about how exactly they would stitch him back up!
While driving to the movie theatre, Honeybun thought Sugarplum said “boobie theatre” which made us all giggle, except Sugarplum. She thought we were all making fun of her but I gently explained we weren’t laughing because she did (or didn’t) say it, but because it was such a funny thing to think about.
Eventually she joined us in the giggling and and the girls devised an elaborate idea of what a “boobie theatre” would be like with boobies all over the walls where babies could crawl around and get milk whenever they wanted. Honeybun asked hubby why he wasn’t laughing and he said “I don’t know, do you think I would like a place like that?” and she exclaimed “NOOOOOO!!!!”
I smiled at hubby and said “I guess we’re doing okay in teaching them about breasts!”
The night after Pipsqueak was born, we all sat at the dinner table together and Doodle noted that Pipsqueak wasn’t eating. I said “No, he’s sleeping right now.” Doodle pointed to his dinner and said “Mine.” I asked him if Pipsqueak could have some of his pasta and Doodle shook his head and said “milk.” I replied “you’re, right, baby can only have milk. Did you used to have milk?” Doodle abruptly replied “No!” Then pulled up his bib and started feeling around for his nipples. “Ok, you’re right…you never had milk! But did you drink mommy milk like the baby?” “YEAH!”
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