Penis if you will, please send a little girl for me to thrill....

In preschool they have some small plastic planets hanging from the ceiling. I told a couple of the boys not to grab one of them for fear of it coming down. They asked me which planet it was and I professed my ignorance. Chas, however, was quite certain he knew. "It's Penis!" Fast forward to the next night in bed. The boys were with us because some knocking sound had scared them and really because they'd taken a two hour nap in the afternoon and weren't terribly sleepy. I recalled the Penis Planet story and told it to Steph. This caused a great paroxysm of laughter from Eddie, who kept saying "PENIS!" and howling. Since he has a cold that is giving him a raspy, nearly laryngitis-type vocal quality, it was especially funny sounding. This morning, his first words upon waking were this. "Let's talk about something. Let's talk about.... PENIS!" Gales of husky, raspy laughter followed. If only I could be amused so easily.... Oh wait. I just blogged about it so clearly I AM.

I'm the invelocational mother

So the other night the boys started yelling "Happy Mother's Day" at us. This is because they "celebrated" Mother's Day at preschool that day. In truth, they made handprints for a top secret Mother's Day gift of which we know absolutely nothing about.

But back to the story. We talked to them a bit about having two moms and I asked them whose tummy they grew in. The both correctly pointed to me. Then Eddie got all smarty pants and announced that I am the "invelocational" mother. I can only assume that he remembered hearing the term "biological mother" at some point and it became twisted up in his head. At any rate, I am quite definitely the invelocational mother now. We asked both boys what that meant and Chas piped ups. "You squeezed us out." Now that's more in keeping with the way we normally address the issue of which of us carried them prenatally.

However, they remain somewhat unclear on the concept as Chas proceeded to suggest that in the future, Mama squeeze Eddie out and I squeeze him out. I'm sure when they come across this posting many years from now it will lead to the need for intense psychotherapy. You're welcome, boys.