In keeping with the “every day is a new discovery” philosophy, Stella has discovered her nipples as well as her daddy’s nipples. Mine are usually safely covered, so to her knowledge, Mommy is nipple-less. I’ll cross the how-do-you-explain-nursing-to-a-2-year-old bridge when we get there next month. I know they have those creepy and inappropriate dolls…
Anyway, for several weeks now, lots of things have been designated “bo-bos.” That is our household term for injury, whether it be a cut, scrape, bruise, or just general sore spot. Stella has taken great delight in bo-bo identification. If you happen to have one, she enjoys nothing more than walking up to you, jamming a finger firmly into your bo-bo, and telling you that you do, indeed, have a bo-bo. Cute and painful all at once1.
The problem is that bo-bo has become synonymous not just with injury, but with any blemish or non-skinlike spot on the skin. Moles and freckles are bo-bos. So are nipples, it seems. Her father announced that after a bath last week, Stella was poking herself in her chest and announcing that she had bo-bos. Since then, she has discovered that Daddy also has bo-bos in the same spot.
Now as a science-type, I’m all for accuracy and proper nomenclature. But my kid is 2, and there’s something eerie about a 2 year old running around using precise and scientifically mature language. We have lots of time to learn the lesson of how one thing or idea can be called by many, many different terms. In the meantime, why do moles have to be moles? How gross and unimaginative. Why not “polka dots?” And nipples and areolas? I just can’t do it. I feel rather the same way about other private parts or parts that we grown-ups tend to associate with erogenous zones.
In any event, after seeing Stella call nipples bo-bos several times, I figured it was time to differentiate them from your run of-the-mill bo-bos, and promptly informed her that those were “boobies” during last night’s post-bath identification session. She walked around the couch for a while after that chanting “boobies, boobies, boobies.”
Maybe I could have picked a better word, but it was the heat of the moment and I just pulled the first word out of my head that seemed at all appropriate. Better than “titties,” I guess. We explained that she had boobies, Daddy had boobies, and Mommy had boobies. Everyone had boobies but everyone’s boobies were different. Can a get a “Kumbaya?”
1 Boy. I can’t wait for my c-section incision!