Modesty (Goal) vs. Reality:
Modesty Goal: No mom wants to be the first naked woman her son sees. Reality: You may be. (And they may have a color commentary about the experience.)
I was. Accidently.
In my defense, I’d just gone to my first bra fitting and was a little distracted by the overwhelming information I learned. Such as:
- While I’ve had these “appendages” for a very long time..(and have been wearing a bra for even longer…I may have had a training bra, long before I had anything to train.) I have no idea how to properly contain them.
- Size does matter- especially in bras. Much more so, than clearance price or color matters. (My previous buying criteria) Unless of course you prefer interesting “looks.” Such as the uni-b**b, The Quad b**b and the ever popular side and back b**bed looks..lesson learned- cup should hold all “tissue.” Overflow means incorrect size- even if it was on sale. )
- There is a proper way to install a brasierre. (Hint: I have been doing it wrong.) It involves a little dance. One you shouldn’t do, in public.
it’s true-I left the bra fitting a little overwhelmed, with the most expensive bra I’ve ever bought, and knowledge of proper installation. I also felt downright perky. (A good bra really does make a difference!) That is, I did, until the next day, when I had to put this new knowledge (and apparatus) into practice.
I was standing in the bathroom, concentrating on proper installation, when the bathroom door flew open and a little potty dancing boy caught me mid-dance. Just like I’d been taught to do. Apparently they forgot the “Always double check that the bathroom door is locked” part of the lesson.
In that moment- my son saw his first naked (ish) woman. (So glad I dress from the bottom up:) ME.
Shock and Awe:
He froze. I was in shock…
He was, well…His eyes widened to manga-size. As I tried to cover myself, I wondered what he was thinking… I didn’t have to wonder for long.
“Mommy, your b**b’s are LOOOONG!” Forget his use of an inappropriate word…. while I’d feared he was in shock and damaged for life… He was actually- in awe. Of the LENGTH of my.. appendages.
Yes, length. You see- proper installation involves leaning over and swinging the girls into the cups much like a trapeze artist swings from one trapeze to another. Only, with a little less “ease.” It’s kind of like sliding jello into a mold. Apparently proper installation also shows off their “length” quite nicely. Especially if you are not a tiny model mom and have nursed 3 babies…. Which brings us back to the point at which mr potty training threw open the door.
I thought I would die.
Neither did he.
In a moment of God inspired sanity- (or maybe all those years as a pastoral counselor actually taught me something..) I did not panic or over react. (I wanted to.) I told him to please knock, the next time he needed to come into the bathroom.
He asked some questions. (“Why are lady parts to be covered, aren’t all b**bs, just b**bs? Daddy has them… “.. etc.) I did my best to answer them.
He walked away satisfied- albeit in awe- and I walked away with a few shreds of dignity intact.
He has knocked on the bathroom door, ever since. Sometimes, even when it’s open, and there is no one in there. Its possible he’s suffering from Post Traumatic B**b Disorder….or not.
Tips for handling the “awkward:”
1) Don’t panic.
2) Fight the urge to over react. In general our children follow our emotional cues. If we react as if the world is ending.. due to accidental nudity- they will too.
3) Answer questions honestly, but first clarify the the question. (I know a child who received quite an earful of information after asking where his new baby cousin came from… he meant what CITY.)
Some of the awkward feelings come from not knowing what is developmentally appropriate to share with our boys about our differences- as a counselor- I like to recommend this Focus on The Family book and their series of age appropriate books written for kids. It’s better to have them earlier than later. :)
Questions for you:
Have you had an awkward mothering moment with your boy(s)?
Have they found creative uses for feminine products? (A friend’s son made them into disposable football padding.. which is kind of brilliant, actually.)
Have they accidently noticed your parts are not the same as theirs?
How did you navigate it? What did you say?
And while we’re talking awkward- do you teach your children to use “anatomically correct” terminology or euphemisms for body parts? With my first 2 We used anatomical terms… but after dying of embarrassment over hearing “My P**** itches” at church one too many times.. we lightened up on the rule… “winky” just seemed less… umm…. awkward…
Share your experiences and advice in the comments!
(PS aren’t you relieved there aren’t any pictures today? See? I do have boundaries!)