Opinion Poll

Someone asked on Facebook what the kids thought about the new baby. Overall, the baby is awfully removed from the here and now. These are kids who are used to being told a day or two in advance of a new sibling's arrival. Seven months is an eternity away. A lady at church asked K what he thought, and he just shrugged and played it cool. "What is one more?" was his response. But at home, he has said that it WILL be a girl, and insists that everyone refer to the baby in the feminine form. He is quite anxious to hold the pattern, and is more than a little concerned over twins--which would push us over to an odd number. Abby is a mixed bag about this baby. She was ecstatic when we told her we were getting a new baby, wanting to know if she could please have it, since her baby (Cara) doesn't really need her anymore. But she was totally turned off when she realized I was actually carrying this sibling. Seems last fall's "Where Baby's Come From" conversation has her grossed out. Mom and Dad are STILL doing that??!! She will not use the term 'pregnant' and cringes when I do. But we passed a rack of cute baby dresses Saturday and she exclaimed, "Oh I hope our new baby is a girl." Me: I'm kinda hoping that myself. Abby: But, Mom? If it's not, let's not tell him he was a disappointment, ok? Me:Deal. That kid cracks me up. Ian and Marina haven't said much on the subject. We gave Levi to Marina, and she is still in the throws of his responsibility. I don't look for her to be hankering for another any time soon. Randy is well pleased. He is already coming up to pat my belly and give the baby kisses, but he is very confused, poor kid. Being the last baby to join the family by birth, he had no idea that babies came any other way than through adoption. Now the kid KNOWS adoption talk. He still has me chuckling over last week's question, "Do you know who the birthdaddy is?" Cara doesn't understand birth or adoption. For all she knows, the stork brings them, so I will be getting out and dusting off some of our "new baby" children's books. The problem is that all of them make some reference to the "fact" that they were once a baby in their mommy's womb. Which Cara wasn't, and I think through this pregnancy Cara will realize that. With Marina, it seemed like we talked adoption non-stop. With Cara we haven't talked it at all. When Levi arrived, she wasn't curious about where he came from, just happy to have someone smaller than her in the house to boss. But this time around, she will have more understanding, and will want to know, "Was I in your belly?" So this will be interesting.

The Talk

In a week, she will be 11 years old. I started less than a month after I turned 11. I knew it was well past time to have "The Talk," but it never made it to the top of my daily to-do list, and she never asked any questions. Frankly, I took her lack of inquisitiveness as clear indication that she had probably already gained a good bit of knowledge from the Americ*n Girl "Body Book" I found at the thrift store last year, and her girlfriends. I know from their mothers that several of her peers have started.
But when we were at my parents' house for Thanksgiving, my dad wanted to know what kind of deals I had nabbed with cuponing. When I told him I hadn't stockpiled much--just sugar and maxi-pads--Abby asked, "What's a maxi-pad?" My folks were aghast that I hadn't had "The Talk" and were pretty insistent that I move it up on my list of priorities. I don't know why they had their panties all in a wad. Their version of "The Talk" was Mom putting on a National Geographic film and leaving the room. Afterwards, Mom asked if I had any questions (I would have rather gnawed off my own tongue than to ask them). Dad wasn't even home.
But I digress. A few days ago we got some very troubling, saddening news concerning a relative. I knew I could not put it off another day, and it needed to include considerably more than menustration. I grabbed the "Body Book" and we headed down to the Sonic where I ordered pumpkin pie shakes, took a deep breath, and said,"Sweetheart, we need to talk."
Abby, already uncomfortably suspicious--not accustomed to being served Sonic shakes for no good reason--groaned, "Why do I suddenly feel as though I should be sitting on a porch swing?" (The porch swing is a euphamism in our family for a serious heart-to-heart conversation because that is where Daddy always called us to when it was time for a come to Jesus meeting.)
I wanted to have that conversation about as much as she wanted to hear it, but I'm so glad I did. Contrary to what I believed, she knew NOTHING about ANYTHING. If she had started her periods, she would have been terrified--thinking she was bleeding to death. She was equally clueless regarding the s€x Ed portion of our discussion. I was actually incredulous at her ignorance, at first thinking it to be feigned due to the embarrassment of talking with me about such things, but no, the longer I talked, I could tell it was genuine. I felt a sense of satisfaction that the master and I have been so totally successful in sheltering our kid's innocence, but I also felt frustration that because of the world we live in, I cannot be so
foolish as to allow that niativity to continue.
She listened, eyes as round as dinner plates, mouth sometimes dropping open:
"That's amazing!"
"Ugh, Mom, that's so gross. I don't want my shake anymore."
"Mom, you can't be serious."
And finally,
"Mom, how are you ever going to explain all this to Marina?"
Oh, Lord, give me strength.

Language School

When we got in the van to come home from church last night, the children numbered off in Spanish.  K reiterated for about the hundredth time that we need to learn to count in Russian.  Marina asked me to test her Russian.  I obliged with the six or seven phrases from our long-ago Russian language tape (following dialogue spelled phonetically):

Me: Ya tibia lu blu
Marina: Uh....'I don't speak Russian?'
Me: No.  'I love you.' Try this one, 'Ti u stal eye a.' feminine form. Either means 'You are sleepy,' or 'I am sleepy.'  Not sure.  Just know that we have said this to the kids at bedtime since going to Russia, so I thought she would get it.
Marina: It means, 'I have no idea what you are saying.'
Me: Um. No. We are all giggling by now. 
Me: Let's try a short one.  'Spasiba.'
Marina:  Spicy!!!!

Well, the child flunks Russian, but she gets an A+ in Texan.  She did know how to say, 'Hold my hand' in Russian and she knew what 'Das vu don ye,' meant, but that was the extent of her linguistics.  She asked in her thick Texan draw, "Maw----ma, when we go to Russia, how will I say, 'I didn't grow up in Russia.' Honey, I don't think you will have to say a thing--it's gonna be crystal clear.