I don't have a crotch...Sleep-over nightmares...

It was mid July and both children still had Easter candy(and Hallowe'en candy too)...really. About an hour before supper, Izzy started asking to have some.
Izzy:" Can I have some of my Easter candy?"
Daddy: "No, that will for sure spoil your appetite for supper."
Izzy: "Daddy, the Easter candy is going to sit on the side of my belly, there'll be lot's of room left for supper."





I have often wondered, as I think many parents do, at what age do kids start to notice and wonder about the differences between boys and girls. Four, I have recently found out.
Izzy goes to the baby sitter's during the days now. Since taking a temp job on the graveyard shift, I have to sleep during the day and so can't watch Izzy or have Tuesday tea parties anymore...temporarily I am hoping...So on a Wednesday morning before dropping her off at the sitter's, she told me that she had seen her friend's crotch. I didn't think much of it until she said, "I saw his crotch and it is very little." I finally clued in to what she meant.
"It was very little, not big at all and I don't have a crotch because I am a girl."
If there was any doubt left as to what she meant, it bounded out the window precisely then.
And apparently, size matters to the four year old crowd too, though not in the traditional sense because then she announced,
"If I was a boy I would have a crotch and it would be bigger than his."
I am still a little speechless at how mercenary things in the pre-school world have become...


Occasionally, we relent to the demands of our children and let them have one of those rights of passage and childhood that all parents fear. The childhood gathering of children in your home. Things like birthday parties and play dates and the most dreaded of them all, the sleepover. There is nothing to cement the fact that you are not so much in charge of your children, as just making sure no one gets maimed, as the sleep over.
Parents everywhere, stand aside helplessly as the seething cauldron of feet and hands and screams goes rocketing past in yet another, seemingly pointless, unbelievably loud game. The excitement level reaches fever pitch so quickly, there is little one can do but stand back with a steady supply of pizza, Dr. Pepper and band-aids and just let it unfold. Many a normally calm and serene parent has crumbled and snapped in the face of the sleepover beast. My wife, who is normally the more tolerant of the two of us, said (in a deceptive moment of calm) "All children may now piss off."
Surprisingly I wasn't too worked up about it. Maybe I am getting more understanding as I get older or maybe years of Tai Chi practice is finally paying off...or maybe I have just learned the sleep over secret. Removing all visible traces of the "rules" is a great way to start bending the will of the children straight off. Things like all the crap food they want, after they have had a full meal of course or no discernible bed time but all video games need to be turned off by 9:30. Letting them all sleep in the same room, like on the living room floor in front of the television will make them think you are the coolest parent that ever lived.(with the added bonus of very little bedding to wash the next day) And here is the real clincher. Letting the children stay up all night watching T.V. will mean just that. Children will be awake long past the adults if they are given free reign over the television. Even Izzy, who normally channels her grandmother and will fall asleep with the converter in her hand ten minutes into program, was still wide awake and saucer eyed at 11:30. The boy and his new partner in crime were still full speed ahead at a quarter past twelve. Now the trick is you tell them that they can watch T.V. as long as the want but you the adult get to pick the programming after 11:30. Expressions like "I pay the bills and I bought the T.V and do I ever get to watch it?" should send out just enough shame for them to give in without causing any real hurt feelings. I find ten or fifteen minutes of the History Channel and it is a pre-pubescent snore fest on the living room floor before you can say "Who wants more popcorn?"