One evening, several months ago, I overheard some weird words coming from the bathroom while G gave the kids a bath. They sounded like “hoo-ha” and “wee-wee.” OH no. I walked in and said, “Can we not use those words? I would rather they learn ‘p3nis’ and ‘vag1na’.” (I know it seems hypocritical to be coding the words here but that is only to keep the sick people from reading this.) Thankfully, G agreed to start teaching them the correct names from that point forward. Now, they point to each other’s or their own body parts and proudly exclaim, “[Buddy's] p3nis!” “[Bean's] ‘gina!” I’m not sure if I’ll still feel good about this decision in a few years when they are in school, animatedly separating the girls and boys in the class by pointing out their distinguishing —ahem— features, but for now, I feel okay with it.

A few weeks ago I was changing in front of the kids. They were quite confused while they watched me change shirts. They stared curiously as I dressed myself, very interested by my bra and my boobs.

Then, a couple of days ago I was changing Bean’s diaper. Buddy (wandering around from room to room upstairs) found one of my bras in our bedroom… He came into the room holding it up and proudly said, “Mommy’s p3nis!” as if he had just put two and two together. Oh boy. “Nope, that’s not Mommy’s p3nis.” He looked at it, then looked back at me and proud again, yelled, “Mommy’s ‘gina!” I said, “No, not Mommy’s vag1na either.” He stared at the bra, more confused than ever. Finally I said, “That’s Mommy’s bra.” He looked at it and proudly exclaimed, “BRA!” then slapped it down on the ground in front of me as if he was Deion Sanders reaching the end zone, completely satisfied with himself. Bean, on the changing table, looked at me, smiled, and chanted, “Bra. Bra… BRA!!”