a big (little) family

Trying to maintain my sanity and live to blog about it.

Honestly?

by

I’ve always been ridiculously honest with my children. I don’t beat around the bush, and while I attempt to preserve their innocence, I still rather tell it like it is.

That said, we were at Walmart earlier this week with everyone but Liberty and Sterling. It had occurred to me that I ought to head to the feminine care aisle, baby nearly due and all, and properly stock my postpartum stash. I typically choose other options, but those aren’t going to hold up to postpartum anything.

I was perusing my options of brightly colored plastic packages when Charlotte’s reading skills were loudly tested in the cart next to me. She stumbled, confused over what she’d been sounding out.

“Momma, what are those?”
I knew it was coming. It was inevitable. Yet, shopping alone is a rare option and I was running out of time.

“It’s for me, for after I have your brother, honey.”

She looked even more confused. Eden, a bit more informed, giggled. Ruby listened with rapt attention. Aware of another body down the aisle, I decided to confidently delve in and hope for the best.

“Having a baby means blood. These help clean it up.”

She nodded confidently. I’m pretty sure she was in over her head, but she was satisfied, anyway. The body down the aisle shuffled past.

It. Was. A. Man. He had to have been 70. Why it hadn’t occurred to me that an older man would be in said less than masculine aisle, I’ll never know. But that, I did not see coming. He kept his eyes on the floor and shuffled past.

I did the only thing I knew to do. Held my head high and moved on. We got to the end of the aisle, and tiny boxes drew Charlie’s eye.
“Momma, what are those?”

I looked over. “Family Planning” hung on a little sign above the neat little rows of boxes.

A snort came from around the corner. Clearly we were entertaining someone. I took the easy out. I mumbled. Moved on. Changed the subject.

Honesty is overrated.

Comments

  2. Oh-man, I know, buying That stuff and answering Those questions….not fun. I don’t like tackling that stuff but I also believe in not keeping them in the dark….. completely. There were questions about where is the baby after the last miscarriage. I should be, but I’m never prepared for questions of that sort. I just muddle through and pray I don’t mess up too badly.
    Holding your head high is right on.

  3. I love walking by those little family planning boxes while local teens boys are shuffling their feet and looking embarrassed. I look them straight in the eye, nod at all my children, look very pointedly at the boys again and say, “They don’t always work. Are you sure you want to do that?”