Parenting…it never ends…(does it?)
Friday, July 22nd, 2011I have an 8 year old son. He’s an immature 8 year old. Today I went clothes shopping for myself and took the kids (lesson learned). I gathered a bunch of stuff, walked into the tiny, crowded dressing room and immediately came into a crisis of sorts (first world, obviously). Should he go into the dressing room with me or not? I have been emphasizing private time for quite a while now. Drew has NO MODESTY AT ALL. He will happily and freely run around in front of us naked, family members naked, strangers naked. His innocence and naivete have always been one of our favorite parts of him. He totally lacks guile. BUT YET. As a purposeful move, the kids never/very rarely see me naked. They rarely see me unclothed. But here I was faced with a choice. Leave him/them outside the dressing room area to create havoc and be unsupervised in a very small, crowded area while I tried on a bunch of clothes or take them in with me. I ended up taking them in with me and Drew was, remarkably, a little embarrassed. Well, maybe not embarrassed. I took off my shirt to reveal my purple bra and he said, “Whoa! Mom, that’s a nice color…uh…thingy (bra)…you have on there.” I tried to be discrete and only remove/replace one article of clothing at a time but when I took off my pants, he hid his eyes and laughed and made some mumbled comment about “that part you sit on”. (I think it’s funny that he has a hard time naming a private part around me. It’s not like we call them bun-buns/twinkle spots and, you know, have pet names for everything or whatever. We call them their actual names and we do so without embarrassment or giggles. In fact, the other day, he was talking about something with an acquaintance of mine and clarified what he was discussing with a comment about it not being the kind that came out of his penis. Pee, I am assuming. And although it seems a rather important detail to forget in the retelling, it seems that I have forgotten what the topic of conversation was but I do remember thinking at the time that that sentence out of context would be eye-brow raising but in context was perfectly clarifying.) Audible giggles about my rear end and my bruised confidence aside, he eventually (read: 10 seconds) got tired of watching me change and he and Malyn commenced pretending they were Perry the Platypus and Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. Malyn would occasionally glance up and critique the article of clothing. (“No, Mom, that looks bad.” or “Ooh, I like that.”)
So I think the lesson here is to leave the kids at home the next time I want to go clothes shopping for myself. Or only go into stores that have reasonably sized dressing areas? Maybe it’s no big deal and I should not worry about him scoping his Mom out while I get changed. This is why parenting is so hard. He may grow up and need therapy because he saw me undressed from time to time (OMG, it was HORRIBLE! I just wish she would have KEPT HER CLOTHES ON!) or he might need therapy because nudity/unclothedness was avoided (My Parents were such prudes, I had NO IDEA what was going on that first time I went to get laid. I just ASSUMED my girlfriend had a PENIS LIKE ME!)
