These are the words that often run through my mind. Vance is in the stage of the free spirit. The age when diapers are cumbersome and air flowing in the nether regions is preferred. I've been here before, it's seems like a million times now and I still don't know how to address the subject. When Ryleigh and Keely were here I tried to take the "It's no big deal" approach (Naked in Rain boots), but now Vance is bearing his yankee doodle and the girls are either too curious for my taste or completely disgusted.
I admit that I probably do not stress modesty enough, but there are few things more adorable than a newborn moon, or a toddler one for that matter, and for this reason I am not quick to react when little ones become unclad. The girls however, are expeditious to point and scream "Ewwww" as they run from the room. Vance is quite impressed by his newly discovered power that his appendage yields. It's at this point that I intercede and grab a giggling boy and rescue two screeching girls. I try to be matter-of-fact regarding the situation, and for the most part I believed my approach was working well for everyone, that I was presenting a healthy view of the body parts God has gifted us. That was until a few weeks ago. As I wrestled a diaper on to the little man, I tried again to tell the girls that it's not funny or gross, but it's they way God made boys, that it is his body, his private area, his penis. Vance stopped squirming and stared at me. I pointed and repeated, "your penis." To which Vance struggled to lift his over-sized head off the couch to look down and replied, "Ewwww." I surely hope Brian and I can afford therapy for all the kids one day.
(Originally written in Jan. 2010)