Anatomy, Guilt, Gold, Lice & Montreal

I have a few minutes, and here is what’s on my mind exactly right now:

  • Was watching The View on PVR today and there was this whole conversation about teaching your kids the correct terms for their body parts. They were going around the table talking about how they taught their kids to call it their “pee pee” and worse, their “cookie,” and only Whoopi was in vehement disagreement with this. I was astonished. And wanted to throttle Sherri, who kept calling the correct terms, “adult words.” Sorry? No. They’re called what they’re called. Penis. Vagina. What? It’s what they’re called. I taught my kids these words because they had questions, and when I have the answer, I give it to them. Don’t underestimate children. They’re just as smart as we are – we just know more because we’ve been around longer. My own kids are 10 times smarter than I am, and I’m outnumbered. If I underestimated them, I’d be in big trouble. What finally cemented this whole “wee wee” and “pee pee” issue for me was once when my ex and I took our son to the doctor for a checkup. To the doctor, in front of my son, who was probably two, my ex used the term, “pee pee.” The doctor immediately said, “It’s called a penis,” as I nodded vigorously. Then my ex said, “Well, he’s just a kid.” To which the doctor responded, “Always use the biological term. Teach them what things are called.” Then he went on to explain that child molesters use the “cute” terms, to make it somehow sweet, and safe. No one brought this up at The View table. Whoopi couldn’t stand what she was hearing, and I wanted to call in and give her this ammo. It’s NOT cute to teach your kids “baby” terms for intimate body parts. They’re called what they’re called. You’re not shattering a kid’s innocence by using the right words.
  • Exhale. Sorry, I know this forum is seldom serious.
  • Okay, so another thing on that episode was a Youtube video that you’ve probably already seen and I had before too, of these three little poodles, one of which was the culprit in a little mess. The filmer was asking the dogs, “Who made this mess?” And the guilty one slunk away quietly. I have a fur child like that. You immediately know if she’s been up to no good. Like, “Fan out! Find what she did!” One time I got home after work, and the bf had got there before I had, so she was out with him. I found a series of little things around the house…a half-chewed toilet paper roll, a ceramic puppy figurine that wore a real little scarf, with the scarf in shreds, and one other thing, I can’t remember what. I got changed, then picked up each thing and lined them up on the coffee table waiting for them to get back. They did, and she came running up, panting, tongue out, tail wagging, smiling big, “Hi! You’re home! How was your d….” until she noticed that my arms were folded, and she saw the stuff on the table and was all, “Oh, crap.” I grabbed the toilet paper roll and put it in front of her face, and said, “What. Is. This.” She turned her gaze then turned her head until it was almost all the way around, like an owl. I did this with each thing until she finally started to creep away, like I couldn’t see her or something. She still gets into stuff. Obviously the promise of a guilt trip is still worth the fun.
  • I was re-reading “Something Fierce” by Carmen Aguirre this weekend, because I’m about to lend it out. It’s about this Chilean refugee, who lived in Canada for a while, then returned to South America with her mother as a part of the Resistance. Great book. She talks about the difference between the highly-developed country of Canada and the culture shock of being in the much less developed countries as they were then, like Bolivia and Peru. It reminded me of when my family moved from Montreal to Ecuador for a year for my father’s job when I was about nine. You go from freeways and suburbs and shopping malls to a place like Quito, that had some beautiful, wealthy residential neighbourhoods and then some filthy, littered areas and finally “old” Quito, which is where the oldest churches are. These churches are not to be missed, some seemingly made entirely out of gold on the inside. My mom’s mom, who lived in Chile, came to visit us once for a month and we took her there to sight-see one Sunday. You can’t visit these churches, of course, without also walking through the streets. There were a lot of the indigenous Ecuadorians out in the streets, mostly women, with their Panama hats and long braids, babies in slings on their backs, etc. It wasn’t uncommon to see them with their older children sitting in front of them, and the mothers going through their hair and picking out lice, then biting down on the lice to make sure it was dead, then spitting it out. Some of them also defecated in the street. This memory is crystal-clear to me, because my father, who had an incredibly weak stomach, started dry heaving as we were walking. My grandmother, who was a very elegant woman, somehow was completely prepared, and took handkerchiefs out of her handbag, sprayed them with perfume, gave them to my mom and me to hold in front of our noses, and told us to just keep walking, and just pretend we didn’t know my dad. So we did. And those churches were really beautiful. Anyway, Something Fierce is a really good book, if you’re looking for something to read.
  • I’m finally going back to Montreal. Last time was in 2010. This time, I’m going with the bf. AND we’re going to a Habs game at the Bell Centre! I feel like after this trip, he’ll understand me much better. 2 New Year’s Eves ago we were out for dinner and I was going on about how my bestie was at that very moment at a Tampa Bay game, in a suite, with Phil Esposito, and she had no idea who that even was. I was getting worked up about this opportunity she had that she didn’t even deserve, and he was all, “Um…okaaay, not every fan is like you.” Well, every Habs fan is like me. And I don’t know even half as much as a lot of them do. So right now, he just thinks I’m not normal. But when he meets the other fans and friends I met there last time, he will get it. I cannot WAIT to go. And I’m very excited for him that he’ll see an NHL game in the very best city in the world to watch an NHL game in! Guys! We’re coming!

So, this was a weird post. Just a brain-dump. Ahhhh, it’s empty again. At least I didn’t keep you here all day this time.

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Comments

  1. Haha! Guilt trip. Dogs are sooo easy. Cats are immune. 🙂

  2. We can’t wait to see you. And show BF that all Habs fans are like you. 🙂

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