The "bad" girls in my area

The question was innocent enough.
 "Mom, did you know there are bad girls in our area?"
What do you mean "bad" girls?
It didn't hit me that he meant bad girls.
My son thought it meant they were in jail. But it turns out that during a visit at Grandma and Grandpa's house, a pop-up message came up while he, with grandpa in the chair next to him ,was on the PBS Kids web site. (Just for the record, my inlaws are not surfing porn but happen to be victims of internet naivete and an adult son living at home.)
Was there a picture? I ask.
No...Just words, he said.
Still, he wanted to know why there were bad girls in our area.
I told him there are bad people everywhere. Because seriously, what are you supposed to tell your 8-year-old about "bad girls" or boys for that matter.
This I know is just the beginning for me. I don't want to have these conversations. I know they are coming and the timing seems forced by a warped society that seems to expose kids to adult circumstances at younger and younger ages. Sex or inferences to it were just on the Disney Channel this morning for God's sake.
Maybe I need to go back to Barney the purple dinosaur or the Wiggles...a time when life was simple and yes, a tad annoying. But I'll take captain feathersword 24/7 over the bad girls in my area.
I went to a party at a friend of friend of friend's home recently. It was a benefit really, sponsored by Planned Parenthood on how to talk to children truthfully in age appropriate ways about their changing bodies and ultimately sexuality.
I went to get a head start but it seems preparing for the conversation at 8 is actually not a stretch but right on time.
I bought a book.
I'm looking for learning opportunties to present itself and then I hope I won't chicken out.

Burps overfloweth

I'm taking the plunge to write this blog. I've been kicking it around in my head for several months. It started with my friend Bea saying, "I just can't believe you have two boys. It is so funny."

My maternal circumstances could be funny for several reasons, I suppose. But I think Bea was getting at the fact that I am a stereotypical girl's girl. Entering the world of boys and just trying to navigate never mind lead is a challenge. Sometimes I find myself thinking and even googling whether there are books on how to manage.

Take burping for instance.

I don't get the attraction.

But D is in love with this croaking guttural sound that seems to come from his tiny toes and up out of his body like something in a horror movie.

"What? It just came up..." he says with a sly, half grin, when I shoot him the best "aggravated mom" pinched-face look I can muster.

I have tried different tactics to wean him from his affection for burping. Most make me question my sanity because of the things I hear myself say.

"D, we don't do that in a restaurant." Which,of course people, do.

Or then I try to cover, not so much for D but for my own embarrassment.

"D!" I say loudly and for the benefit of other restaurant patrons in the nearby booth. "Say excuse me and let's have good manners."

D replies: "EGG-CUSE ME!' in a tone louder than his burp.

At preschool pick up one day, burping was in full swing. Dwas doing it...his friend was doing it.

Instead of sternly saying knock it off....which doesn't work either....I say:

"D I am not willing for you to burp like this here. You can burp in your playroom when you get home."

He burps again.

"D where can you burp?"

Let me stop this now because it's sad and a designated burping area doesn't seem to work either.

A friend told me I need to ignore him and his burping and go about my life.

On the ride home...burp burp burp. I grip the steering wheel harder but say nothing.

When I open his car door.......BURP........I say nothing.

"Mom, hey mom, did you hear me?"

No, I say.

"I just burped," he said.

Really?

Hmmm. I must have missed that one.

He burped again to make sure I heard him.