The Remote Control of Life

Posted: September 23rd, 2008 | Author: | Filed under: Friends and Strangers, Mama Posse, Misc Neuroses, Miss Kate | 4 Comments »

Am I the only one who wishes real life was like Tivo?

I mean, sometimes I feel like if I could just hit Pause for a few minutes (or hours)–freezing the rest of the world, not me–it’d give me a chance to run around like a madwoman and get my shit together, even slap on some lip gloss and smooth down my clothes before taking a deep cleansing breath through the nostrils, smiling serenely, then hitting Resume.

Wouldn’t that just rock?

Yesterday I totally needed Tivo Life functionality. We were at our local kiddie digs, Frog Park, and I was chatting with an extremely super duper pregnant woman. Kate ran up to us and asked her, “Do you have a baby in your belly?” to which she laughed and said “Yes! I do!” (I think she was in that nearly almost overdue get-this-thing-out-of-me phase. The Fourth Trimester, as it were.)

Anyway, then Kate looked up at me with a quizzical head tilt and asked, “How do they put babies in the belly, Mama?”

At which point I nearly swooned and needed to hold onto Huge Preg-o for support. Nearly.

Instead, several possible and seemingly inappropriate answers raced through my head, along with the thought “Why don’t I have a canned response ready? Why the hell am I so unprepared for this?” And also the thought, “She’s not even three, for God’s sake! Isn’t it a bit early for this question?!”

Thankfully, Large Pregster had waddled off to help her ecto-child who was experiencing some sort of monkey bar issue. So at least my stuttering, blathering answer would take place in relative privacy. But still. I needed that Tivo Pause button.

But then, in the next split second–since this dense stream of neurotic thoughts managed to whirl through my noggin at a furious pace–Kate squealed and pointed across the playground. “Look at that little dog!!” And like a blur she ran off to inspect a wee decrepit Chihuahua who was tied up to the fence, her question to me nearly instantly forgotten.

Uh, phew!

Having had some time to reflect upon this, I’m still utterly at a loss for how I’d answer her in an age-appropriate way. I’m hoping that the Friday Mama Posse will have some brilliance and insight to send my way. So cross your fingers that the question doesn’t resurface before then.

In the meantime, I think the obvious solution is to get a dog.


4 Comments on “The Remote Control of Life”

  1. 1 Nell said at 4:51 am on September 24th, 2008:

    Well, at least you’re planning to answer the question…unlike some prominent mothers and grandmothers-to-be!
    For what it’s worth, we explained to the boys (at about Kate’s age) that everyone has blueprints, and that parents get together and combine their blueprints to make babies. Of course, that is a Lego-construction driven perspective! We also started right off the bat with using accurate body words- no euphemisms for my straight-to-the-point husband.
    So this morning, Stephen refused to get dressed and was quite articulate in explaining that “my penis is poking my pants and it bothers me!” I kept a straight face long enough to get Phil in the room to explain that, yes, it happens in the mornings, and he’d best get used to it. :)

  2. 2 The Subtle Rudder said at 6:55 am on September 24th, 2008:

    I can personally vouch for the effectiveness of tiny dogs as a means of distraction.

  3. 3 kristen said at 7:51 pm on September 24th, 2008:

    Anatomically correct? Sheesh, at age 41 I *still* say “frontie” which is the Bruno family term for, well, for the girl parts… But I’m always impressed by those who can not only say those words themselves, but can teach them to there children. Strong work.

  4. 4 dJo said at 4:30 am on October 1st, 2008:

    I’m considering teaching Vivi “frontie” after this past beach vacation where Zosia loudly announced that she had to “go in deep into the water to cover her VULVA so she could PEE!”

    nice double whammy for the people around us.

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