On a pretty regular basis, I am presented with those faces. I'll be typing here at the computer, and Madalyn will tap me on the shoulder so that I can pay close attention to the face she is making. I'll be sleeping in my bed, and she'll come to wake me up - and will even turn on the light to show me this face. She'll yell from the waayy back in the van and ask me to look at her through the mirror to see this same face.
And why do I have to see this face? Is she having a tantrum? No. Is she constipated? Looks like it doesn't it? But, no, that is not why I am looking at this face. I have to look at this face because it comes with a question. And being a seven year old girl...it's fun to ask this same question 37 times. And the answer to the question is always "yes." So, what is the question? The question my friends is this: "is this what you look like when you are pushing out a baby?"
And along those same lines...let me tell you my favorite Madalyn story. Two summers ago, we were driving home from the pool and Katie decides that this is a perfect time to get all the clarification she desires on exactly how babies are made. So we go through the the basics (and, mind you, she had heard all of this before): sperm + egg = baby. Katie chews on that for a bit. And then Katie asks "but how exactly does the sperm get to the egg?" So, I explain the mechanics to her. And from the back of the van, I hear her sounds of disgust. How nasty that is...why would anyone want to do that?
And to myself, I am thinking, I am such a good parent. Yes, keep thinking that sweetheart. It's nasty and disgusting...and you don't want any part of it. But my pat on the back was quickly interrupted by a reality check from my 5 year old. Who asked a question that I am quite sure NO parent has been asked during the sex talk. Especially since I wasn't really talking to the 5 year old. MY 5 year old...in hearing about the mechanics of the act...asks: "so...how does that feel?" At least I was rescued from having to make a response because she quickly followed up her own question with another: "does it tickle?" And with the peals of laughter through the van...mommy was soon forgotten...