And then he threw up all over the couch.

“I googled you and I found your blog.”

If you want to know what stops my heart it is a mom in Ian’s class telling me that she read my blog.

I don’t keep it a secret. I am not anonymous. I am mostly pretty proud of my work here, but this was this morning and I happen to know I wrote a post this week about testicles and I only know this lady from kindergarten class parties. I have no idea what is coming next.

Fortunately it was ” I read your post about your underwear falling down at Tae Kwon Do. I was reading it at work and I was laughing so hard I was crying. I can completely relate.”

I got lucky. This particular mom is very cool and has a sense of humor.

Now two parents from Ian’s kindergarten class have approached me about my underpants issues. I am thrilled that they are reading me and like my work, but I have two concerns.

1) If you google my first and last name and, I don’t know, zip code, is the first thing that comes up The Saga of the Traveling Underpants?

and

2) Am I going to become known as the lady who had underwear problems at Tae Kwon Do?

I guess these are the risks that you run when you tell all of your most embarrassing stories to the internet.

“Hey Ian!” said the older boy. “You know how squirrels eat nuts?”

Because I think like a nine year old boy I could see where this was going a mile away.

He continued “Ahhh! Squirrels are after my nuts! They are in my pants!”

Ian laughed, but he was clueless and the older kid knew it.

“Get it? Because I have nuts in my pants!”

Ian asked “Why do you have nuts in your pants?”

“Because your nut is your penis!” neighbor boy replied.

I had a conundrum. Your nuts are not your penis and I know this. I don’t want my kids to go around with bad information or making jokes that don’t make sense. On the other hand, I don’t really want to talk about scrotums with a random 3rd grader. I am friends with his parents, but I don’t really talk to them about testicles that often so I don’t know how they would feel about me giving their children lessons about anatomy and slang.

I am not a patient woman, but I bode my time. I was a relatively mature adult and I waited until we got home and I was alone with my children.

“Listen guys,” I said “Remember when Jack said that your nut was your penis? That isn’t exactly true.”

I said penis. I had their attention.

“Your nuts are really your scrotum,”

*blank looks*

“your testicles”

*blank looks*

“the thing under your penis. You know what I am talking about?”

Claudia said yes and walked away.

Ian said “Under my penis?”

I was always under the impression that boys were obsessed with their balls, but here is my son, almost six years old and he forgot that there was something under his penis.

I said “Yeah, the thing under your penis.”

Then I actually said “Put your hand in your pants and feel under your penis.”

He figured it out. I am an excellent mother.

So far there has been no further discussion of the nuts, but I have a feeling that this is nowhere near over.

And oddly, I feel like I did the right thing.

Then he said that he knew he was a cool kid because he had a stuffed dragon.

I kind of wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t worry about the cool kids. The kids that are cool in high school usually have pretty mediocre lives by their mid 20s and nobody even remembers who the cool kids were in their Kindergarten class.

I wanted to tell him to be himself and to have fun. I wanted to tell him that if it made him happy to take his lunch in a hat then that is what he should do.

I wanted to tell him that the cool kids don’t matter.

Of course, I still care about the cool kids. Yes, I care about them much less than I did when I was in 8th grade, but a tiny little part of me will always want to part of the “in” crowd. I know it doesn’t matter. I know I am happy. I know my life is good and I have great friends, but this girl is still in there somewhere wanting to be friends with the most popular girl in school.

Now I’m just hoping that the cool kids have decided against bras to the grocery store because I accidentally left the house without mine on this morning and had to shop in my coat the entire time.

I’m also hoping that my daughter can somehow continue to avoid caring about what the other girls are doing. This might sound sexist but it always seemed like the popularity game affected the girls more than the boys. I would love it if my children could avoid the pain of insecurity.

This week I’ve heard some of the most amazing writers I know worrying about how much they suck. These are men and women in their 30s and 40s who astound me on a regular basis. These are published authors and A-List Bloggers and people whose words have made me cry or howl with laughter.

Maybe the insecurity never goes away. Hopefully it just gets easier. I feel bad for my kids because they still have to get through the worst of it, and they don’t even know it is coming.

And I can know what I know about growing up and still try not to worry about the shopping bags and dragons I can’t predict for them that I know will show up. And I can be glad that he says he knows he’s a cool kid, for now, for whatever random reason. It can’t hurt to store some of that up for the times when I know he won’t feel that way.

Maybe we will get lucky and all they will have to do to be cool is take their lunches to school in shopping bags. I have hundreds of those and I know where to get more when they run out. I bought the stuffed dragon on eBay so I can replace that too.

But the Kindergarten kid who decided on shopping bags owes me thirty bucks for the Bakugan lunch bag.

1) “fancy getup”

Wylie Dufrense

2) Wylie Dufrense

3) “a-s-s”

He was just spelling it over and over. I have no idea why. I mean, I know why, I just don’t know why he wouldn’t stop. We also had to ask him to stop signing it.

4) Obi-Wan Kenobi

5) diarrhea

[photo]

Just to prove my point about my life being funny I got this text message from my husband less than five hours later:

While yes, I would like to take credit for presenting things in a funny way, the truth is that my family is hysterical, my friends are hilarious and I see humor all over the place.

There is actually more about the panel, Why Women are so 2.0, here if you are interested.

Since they started Kindergarten I have been sort of neglectful. Their teacher have been doing a great job and they have both been making huge leaps in reading and writing.

Since the weather gods have clearly decided that my children are to be home schooled this month I decided to pull out the HOP box and see how much progress the twins have make in Kindergarten.

It turns out that they are reading really well. They have got the three letter words down pat and they are getting better with sight words (you know, she, what, is, the, etc.) and they are even doing well with the stories.

Then the little book threw us a curve ball.

Or should I say passed us a curve ball?

The sentence was “Tim can pass.”

Ian got the “Tim” and he got the “can’” and then he got stuck.

I said “Sound it out.”

“Paws? Paz? Pahs?”

Against my better judgment I did what I knew would help him.

“What sound does A-S-S make?”

*blank stare*

“What word have I been telling you that you weren’t allowed to spell anymore all week?”

“ASS! PASS!”

He read the word, followed by hysterical laughter and saying the word ass over and over and over until I threatened him with a nap.

And there you have it. The mother of the year award, bring it to me.

Oh yeah, that is his thumb.

I was taking pictures of icicles when Ian walked in and said “Is that a bear?”

The kids thought I was taking pictures of the large mammal in our back yard that I hadn’t even noticed.

I yelled “Hey Gabe! There is a huge doe in our back yard!”

And that is when Claudia fed me the line. She said “What is a doe?”

I got to say – completely in context and with absolute accuracy – “A deer, a female deer.”

Actual Father Not Shown

I said “Are you making liberty spikes?”

He said “What is a liberty spike?”

I explained to him what a liberty spikes were and what a mohawk was.

“You know your Dad used to have a mohawk. A purple one.”

“No he didn’t. He had a purple head?”

“No, honey, just his hair was purple. His head was regular color. He used to have a nose ring too.” I said. ” A Bull Ring, like this” and I demonstrated what a bull ring looks like.

And my five year old son said “That is so old fashioned.”

Welcome to 2010 people. We are old now.