Boobies, Magic Toilets and Womanhood

Below is a piece I submitted for the 2014 Erma Bombeck Writing Competition.  I have been told by several people that my writing style is very similar to Erma’s.  I consider that a huge compliment as I believe she was a very gifted writer.  Also, I lived in Dayton, Ohio for a few years just as she did.  I love Bombeck’s sense of humor and can definitely relate to her witty parenting stories and feelings.

I did not win the 2014 competition but I did enjoy writing this true account for the competition.  I thought I’d share it here…

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Title: Boobies, Magic Toilets and Womanhood

“Your boobies look different than mine” my five year old daughter said to me as I stepped out the shower one evening.

“Yes, they sure do,” I replied and laughed. Then I turned a bit red.

This was the moment when I realized that my daughter was viewing me in a whole new way.  She was looking at my body and comparing it to her own, noticing the differences between us.

Next I saw her eyes next travel south below my waist.  That area definitely looked different from her innocent, hairless one.  Dang, I really need to shave more often, I thought to myself.  Oh well, it’s too late to hide it now.

I instantly thought back to the month prior when my daughter caught me sitting on the toilet during my menstrual cycle.  Yes, my children love to follow me into the bathroom; there is no escaping them.  My sweet oldest girl spotted the blood in the toilet before I could flush or push her aside.

“Why is the toilet red, mommy?” she asked.

Taken aback, I said the first foolish thing that popped into my head.

“It’s a magic toilet, sweetie.  It changes colors.”

My idiotic response only made things worse.   She then asked a dozen questions about how and why the toilet was magical and what other colors we would see next in there.  I’m an idiot!  Sigh!

Why did I find it difficult to just state the plain, honest truth to my daughter?  Why couldn’t I simply mention what it was like to be a woman and point out the wonderful, sexual parts of a female?

Perhaps I didn’t want to face the fact that my first born was growing up before my eyes.  I could not fathom that now was the appropriate time to discuss being a woman and all that it entailed.

My five year old was ready and capable to understand the life changes but I wasn’t.

I was agonizing what to say next and how to explain sex and the difference in boy parts.

That’s when she simply looked me directly in the eye and said:  “Well, that’s okay that your parts aren’t the same as mine.”  “You’re a grownup and I’m just a girl after all,” she added confidently.

And there it was – my daughter figured out the answer she needed and a resolution to my dilemma.   I didn’t need to explain the birds, bees, man vs. woman, my big breasts compared to her tiny ones and the menstrual cycle after all.

I just needed to relax and let my kids figure things out for themselves.  While I was arguing with my inner voice, my daughter had drawn her own conclusion.

From breasts to toilet talk and womanhood, my children teach me far more life lessons than I ever thought possible.  I often think I learn way more from them than they do from me.