We are certainly not in Kansas anymore in this household.
Had to go into school today to approve a new program Boo is starting on Health and Hygiene which includes knowing which parts are supposed to stay inside the pants and when it is okay for hands to follow them down there - and other stories.
There is a brilliant work book that the school have researched which had sections for me to fill in on what we call things (we decided on Penis and Wiener) and what rooms it is okay to be naked in (Bathroom, Change room and Bedroom) and where and when it is okay to touch things.
This is very important as Boo is a "sock" boy as my Australian brothers in law call it and he will have to learn how to wash himself properly, at some point. I have always instructed him to wash his own bits, modelling where necessary, but found myself at a loss when it came to well, showing how to wash "under the sock".
I tried cutting up a surgical glove to fashion a foreskin that I peeled back over my index finger, but the analogy was lost on Boo who continued to do his own thing. At the moment he takes very hot, very regular baths and I am assured by a fellow Mother of a Son, that should be enough for now. (Thanks Be to God) If a cheese factory develops I will have to refer back.
The other discussion I had with my big Sis was how to explain where modesty is appropriate, without creating a lot of unnecessary guilt or shame. I mean, I think Boo reached down and found his thing during a nappy change in his first week on earth and hasn't seen any reason to let go of it since.
And it is appropriate for Boys to hold on to their wieners when peeing in the bathroom or behind a tree. But not in the DVD shop, or Supermarket or the Back Seat of the Car.
Sis just said to tell him his "Big Penis" Belongs in the Bedroom. End of Story. The school were happy enough with that. And we don't have to deal with that chapter of the guide book just yet - the one involving emissions. He is only 11.
So it is a new and technicolor world has - opened up, for this mother who grew up with 3 sisters and no brothers. My first experiences of all that were from a secondary users perspective. In that the equipment was already well in use and the owners were looking for my involvement in getting them started, or finished, shall we say.
And sorry lads but that thing is pretty weird when you first get a glimpse of a real one in your mid teens. Particularly when you have only ever seen the one in the Prehistoric Man exhibit or the weeny cute one your baby cousin has.
So to be the mother of a boy who is well, growing, that takes some getting used to.
And the reasons for growth seem to be very arbitrary at times. I mean, Sesame Street Videos, Some Really Excellent Credits at the end of a film, um, Waking up in the Morning and certainly to my great shock and surprise - Having a Chat with Your Mummy - during which I was recently told:
"this one is really big*"
"Which one?" I say - curiously,
"This One" he replies, Pointing. Smiling.
"AHHGGH!" I reply jumping 6 feet in the air and then running on my toes into the next room.
Apparently this quite normal, it just happens when they are feeling happy and relaxed and comfortable.
And Yes* we know you all say that.