As a direct result of Halloween, the DGC discovered how interesting it can be talking about death and dying and heaven and souls and what happens if you don’t drink enough water (you turn into a raisin) and what happens to you if you smoke (you die before you’re supposed to) and what happens to you if you don’t take care of yourself (you have a heart attack like mommy and daddy’s daddies.)
If you’ve read some of my other posts, you’ll know that I think it’s generally a bad idea to lie to kids about stuff. In the long run they find out and then you have to explain the truth, plus explain why you lied to them to begin with.
Thus, the whole notion that a baby grows inside its mother’s belly was dispelled by me early on. The DGC was on the toilet and I was sitting on the floor, a scenario that occurs almost daily for various reasons that aren’t germane to this posting. She looked up into space and thought for a minute and asked the question, however it was worded, about how babies can grow in their mommy’s belly but not get mixed up with the food their mommy eats or get pooped out like the food does.
Commence anatomy lesson. I explained that a baby doesn’t really grow in a mommy’s belly, per se, and that the word belly, while used to describe the stomach, is also used to described the general abdominal region and that there are two distinct areas, the stomach, where the food goes, and the uterus, where the baby grows and that the food goes into the stomach, which is connected to the intestines, etc., and the baby is in the uterus which is connected to the vagina and that’s why the baby doesn’t get digested and pooped out.
The DGC has constructed in her mind a fence that divides the uterus — which she calls the unerus — from the stomach. She has the general idea.
In any event, we’ve been talking about getting a puppy. We have two older labrador retrievers and, understanding that one of them will go before the other one, we have decided to look into being a three-dog household for a little while. (Multiple-canine owners understand the gist.)
That’s how we introduced the DGC and the DBC to YouTube. DH had them one morning whilst I was showering watching videos of puppies on YouTube. Welcome to the newest activity in our home!
Daddy goes downstairs to work and I am left trying to yell above the pleadings to watch more puppies. So there we are, all crammed into my Herman Miller swivel chair watching videos of puppies. Puppies playing. Puppies sleeping. Puppies snuzzling kittens. Puppies. Puppies. Puppies. And there it was. A video entitled, “Amazing Dog Birth.”
“Hey, you guys,” I hear myself say, “Wanna watch a video of a dog being born?” Had I not said it without thinking, I wouldn’t have said it at all. The answer was an enthusiastic yes.
Welcome to the newest new activity in our home, watching videos of births on YouTube. Puppy births, kitten births, giraffe births, whale births. You name it and we’ve probably watched it give birth or lay eggs. A veritable cornucopia of life sliding into this world on the screen of my iMac.
I know that in the not-too-distant future there will be discovered a thumbnail of a human birth video on the left-hand side of my browser window. Mommy, I want to see that one, the DGC will tell me…and I don’t know if I’ll let her.
When I was pregnant with the DGC I saw my first human birth video and I have to say that the image burned into my brain is still smoldering. It was a homemade video of a home birth that occurred circa 1974. A 1970s lady in her harvest gold, shag-carpeted and fern-festooned living room, stark naked on a tarp laboring amidst what seemed like the entire neighborhood milling about. Random women in peasant shirts and men with muttonchop sideburns pressed cold compresses on the forehead of this woman while she alternately screamed and grunted. Occasionally, a child wandered into and out of the frame. I found myself scanning the background looking for a cat sunning itself and, perhaps, Waldo.
Interestingly enough, the birth itself was serene and, had I not witnessed the panting, grunting, moaning and sweating that came before it, I would have gone into childbirth thinking that it was nothing so horrendous.
Regardless, the public nature of the whole thing sort of offended my sensibilities. Had I somehow lost my mind and decided to have a home birth — which, if you knew me, you’d know was close to unthinkable — I don’t think I’d have invited the UPS man in when he rang the doorbell.
When the lights came up, I could tell I wasn’t the only one disturbed.
The DGC has asked me how babies are made and I’ve explained it to her and I know she has no idea what I’m talking about. It’s too clinical for her and she has not even the slightest inkling that sex exists, which is a really good thing considering she’s four and a half.
I know that one day soon she will ask me again, and again, and again, until I am able to explain it to her so she understands it.
I can wait for that day. Until then we’ll watch things give birth on YouTube.
Tags: Birth, death, gross-out factor, kittens, pain in the ass, parenting, puppies, YouTube