Laylee sits next to me tapping and making alarmingly loud sucking and hocking noises.
I politely ask her to stop.
The noises continue.
I yell, “HEY!!!!”
She looks at me innocently. “Why hey, Mamma?”
I am dumbfounded. “WHY HEY?” I respond.
“I’m serious. Why hey?”
She was also serious today in the pediatrician’s office when she placed her hands on her chest and said, “See these pointy parts. These are my breasts.” She then gently cupped my own mammaries and said, “These are your breasts. They are much lower than mine. When I get big and old like you my chest will go down SO LOW too.”
The truth is out. I no longer have the body of a four-year-old. I did not feel inclined to explain that her four-year-old body was partially to blame for my general lack of perkishness. WHY HEY? Why indeed.
That Laylee. She is a hoot. As someone whose, um, attributes are no longer ANYWHERE near where they belong after nursing 2 children, I can totally relate!
Too cute! When she is a mother she will truly understand both of these issues.
I almost woke up my family just now, from laughing. So low! She has NO IDEA! (My boys call them “nibbles,” which cracks me up.)
snicker, snicker.
After nursing 3 babies & weaning the last one cold turkey…well, lets just say things were not only much lower, but much smaller. Since becoming pregnant my attributes have become a source of great curiosity to B.B.
He climbed up in my lap last week and said, “Oh, wow, Mom! You have boosoms. Cool! Bigger, bigger boosoms. Why?” Which thrilled his dad to no end…
He understands that my belly is growing “bigger, bigger” as he puts it, because Bitsy is growing in there. But what she has to do with my breasts absoultely baffles him.
Yes, the joys of being fondled by children… So low. That’s a good image for my morning.
But my poor daughter. If I’m any indication of what is in store for her, she will be lucky to even NEED a bra.
Hey’s for horses. Aren’t you glad you’re not a cow? Oh fond memories of my being 12 – and witty too!
Oh, my, word. Tell me she didn’t REALLY do that. Please. That is hilarious, and so, so depressing all at once.
Love it, but I feel like I should give you a hug. Or a sympathetic pat on the back. Or something. Right now, the only thing keeping mine “up” is the big belly they are resting on. I am afriad to see what will happen when I am no longer pregnant.
teehee!
By the way…. Dadguy found the feet on Saturday at noon…. I’m writing a post about the “foot adventure,” discovery, and my thoughts on what we notice…. or not. It’s been a hard month.
Sorry it’s taken me so long to tell ya…
This is especially funny to me, because just this week a friend’s 4 year old walked in on her in the tub and asked, “Mommy, when I get bigger, will I get boobies?” Followed by, “Will mine point up like Sissie’s or down like yours?”
Truth is sometimes sad.
My daughter keeps patting my leftover postpartum belly fluff and asking if there is another baby in there. Time for some weight loss.
Laylee kills me.
There’s got to be something to this…boob sagginess as a measure of…what?
Before I was married, my four year old cousin once asked why I had “these” (and placed her hands appropriately) because I wasn’t a mom. Her mom was standing there listening to her and grinned at me. I had to explain that they were for my FUTURE babies. My aunt added, “And for other things too, huh?” It ranks among the most uncomfortable weird moments in my life.
What is it with four year olds? Their little brains are so funny.
HI-larious. Oh, that’s just too funny.
Aren’t kids just brutally blunt sometimes?
Lol. That’s too funny. Hopefully she didn’t feel you up in front of the doc. 😉
Just this morning my 4 yo told me she couldn’t wait. Couldn’t wait for what you ask?? Couldn’t wait for her boobs to make food too. 🙂 Yes, we are less technical around here. We say boobs.
My three-year-old son watched me nursing his two-month-old brother and asked, “Are those your belly buttons, Mommy?” We are trying to use correct words for our body parts, so I said, “No, these are my breasts.” So now he calls them my breast buttons. Hee hee.
And he’s so confused about the milk that comes out…he asked me yesterday if I was going to drink the milk so that it would come out for the baby. Well, sort of, kid.
Laughing… a lot… it is amazing how our bodies start to droop because of our kids… and usually, they are the ones to point it all out to us – aren’t they sweet?
Oh, Kathryn- you must be doing something right- Laylee certainly is very smart! 🙂
Note to self: Loud, random guffaws startle the children. Remind self to blame Kathryn.
But you’re perky in so many other ways, K.
Can you imagine what this girl is going to be like at, say, 12?
hilarious. Kids really have a way of keeping us honest!
The “why hey?” reminds me of my junior high students. They DON’T GET why I am annoyed with them when they start talking out of turn again .57 SECONDS after I just asked them to please pay attention and stop talking.
“Why hey” indeed.
Hmph.
Luckily, my students NEVER comment on my breasts.
Oh, I am so thankful I have not had THAT comment yet. Its bad enough that my kids are convinced that I am pregnant when I am not.
I just love your posts about Laylee! I read a few anecdotes to my husband and now he frequently asks me if there are any new Laylee stories on your blog. 🙂
I could tell when pregnancy started changing my boobs because The Biscuit started resting his hands on them when sitting next to me or on my lap. Like they are his own personal hand-rests. Sometimes I’m so grateful he’s not speaking yet; I wonder what he’d say?