So, one of the lessons I am learning as a mother is that the days of being able to say whatever I want are pretty much over. I have had to give up the f-bombs, replacing them with fudge pops or some other completely useless phrase. No more talk about sex. We can still have it, just can’t talk about it.

Just the other night my husband whispered to me as I was cooking dinner, “did you like the sex I gave you last night” (Cliff note for those of you not in the loop…my husband is Cuban and that is the way he talks) Well, apparently he did not whisper quietly enough, as my 7 year old daughter was within earshot and quickly said “what did he give you?” to which I quickly replied “Socks, sweetheart. Daddy gave me socks because my feet were cold.” The conversation took over an hour to play out as she wanted me to prove it and even when I showed her a pair of socks, she quickly pointed out that that did not prove a thing. Thank goodness he said “sex” and not “penis”. I would have been hard pressed to find some peanuts in my bedroom.

It was not until we were in Disney World this month that it really became apparent that I am not doing a good enough job watching what I say. We had just boarded the boat from our hotel, the Wilderness Lodge, in route for Disney’s Not So Scary Halloween party. My children, dressed in their pirate costumes, looked so adorable. We took a seat on the packed ferry boat and as the boat was preparing to leave the dock, the captain blew the horn (or pulled a whistle or whatever!) and my sweet little son looks back, throws his hands in the air and yells “STUPID”. Everyone on the boat was laughing and I was almost embarrassed just at the thought that they had to have known he learned that in someone’s car. So, I did what any self-respecting mother would do and said “Ethan, just because daddy does that, doesn’t mean you can.” I am truly thankful he stopped at “stupid”.

"Wookie Dis!"



I posted last month on my Facebook page about how my son, while sitting on the potty, discovered a certain “fondness” for his little weenie. I say little only because he is a little boy. I felt the need to clarify that in case one day, in his teen years, he happens upon this blog and, well you know where I am going with this.


So this past weekend we were back in re-potty training mode as my little man had lost some ground in his new class. I had him walking around the house with just a long shirt on and no diaper or undies. My mother was at the house when Ethan walked into the kitchen yelling “wookie dis”! (which, for those of you that don’t speak 3 year old, translates to “look at this”) When my mother and I looked to see what he was so proud of, there he was, standing in the doorway with his weenie in his hand. So proud. So happy. This was the moment I realized the real reason underwear were invented. It was to keep a man’s hands off his penis. Since they start at such a young age, it only stands to reason that without the invention of underwear, there would be millions of men in this world walking around with their penises in their hands. It would be hard for them to hold down a job when they’re too busy holding up their penises.

This brilliant person who created the first pair of underwear should be in some sort of hall of fame somewhere. I am not sure they can pinpoint when and where it happened. When you look up the history of underwear or undergarments, Wikipedia dates it back to the loincloth more than 7000 years ago. It is obvious this must have been a problem back then, as well. Thank goodness they solved the problem before it got too out of hand! (get it?)

Needless to say, I gained a wealth of knowledge that morning in the kitchen, all thanks to my 3 year old son. I have always said he is a handful, now he also has a hand full. The next time he says “wookie dis” hopefully it will be because he learned how to tie his shoes or something.