If you didn’t read my earlier post about the new Featured Bloggers, go do that first.
They are awesome and they are funny. I love funny.
As always? I am not fucking around, people. Go read that post. Check out those writers.
And then come back.
A while back, I posted about the moment in which I realized that Kallan needed to start using her own public bathroom stall.
And here is the story of Maj.
Maj at three and a half was a very serious little girl who liked to have explanations for everything. Everything. And she noticed everything.
Maj noticed a lot about me, because she was rarely away from my side. Maj liked to do everything with me.
She liked to come everywhere with me.
And so the first time she was in the bathroom with me and saw blood? She was all noticey and alarmed. Demanded explanations. I told her the story that my mother had told me when I was little . . .
That every month the mommy made a comfy nest inside for a baby to live in. And if a baby was coming? That nest would stay inside to hold the baby and keep it safe until it was time to be born. And if no baby was coming? The nest got taken apart every month and a new one got built. Just in case.
Maj stared up at me with wide blue eyes, “Nest of blood, Mommy?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Maj seemed content. I was pleased that I had managed to handle the situation in an age-appropriate way. We went on with life. Several months passed.
And then came this . . .
The two of us in a bustling preschool bathroom filled with children and other moms we knew. Maj went into the stall with me and used the toilet. And then I sat down to pee.
Wiped. I mean, I have no specific memory of wiping, but I am sure that I did.
I stood up.
And then Maj began to chant in a very loud sing-songy toddler voice the following thrilling information . . .
“Oh, a nest! A nest! I see the nest! No more babies for us! No more babies! If there is a nest in the potty that means no more babies! Only Maj. Only Kallie. No more babies!”
I put my finger to my lips, “Shhhhh! Maj, shhhhh.”
But she would not be shushed.
“No more babies! Bye-bye, blood nest! Bye-bye nest for baby we will not have! No more babies! We are all done with babies! We’ll make another nest and then we’ll see, but this nest? Not for a baby! No more babies for us! Blood nest in potty means no more babies! Only Maj! Only Kallie! No more babies!”
Ack! Giggling from all around me as the other mothers tuned in and listened. I hurriedly buttoned my jeans and kicked at the toilet’s handle. Flush, damn it! Flush!
Maj stood over the whirling water and waved down into the toilet, yelling in her sing-songy voice . . .
“Bye-bye, blood nest! We don’t need you for a baby! Only Maj! Only Kallie! Bye-bye, blood nest! Bye-bye!”
That was Maj.