On Monday I was driving Julian and Nora home at the end of the day when the following conversation took place:
Julian: "Mommy, do you know where babies come
Me: (thinking, Oh God - this conversation can't really be happening... he is only 4.5yrs old... I haven't read that far ahead in the "how to take care of your children manual") "Um, how?"
Julian: "Babies come out of your bum, Mommy."
Me: "They do?"
Julian: "Yes Mommy. Babies come out of your bum, and they are black."
Me: (shocked, and about to lodge a formal complaint to school/daycare) "Julian, where did you hear that."
Julian: "My book."
Me: "What book?"
Julian: "My baby book."
Me: "What baby book."
Julian: "My baby book in my closet on the top shelf. The pink one."
Then it hit me. 1 month before Julian was born I found a Keith Haring book called: "Babies" and I fell in love with it. I purchased it in honour of our baby-to-be. On the inside cover I inscribed: "to Julian, love mom & dad xox 01.2005". I remember the excitement I felt making the purchase... picturing going through all of the wonderful works of art with my little baby boy. The book features one of Haring's signature images, the "radiant baby". As written on the inside cover, there are: "pregnant women dancing giddily, babies with halo and wings, cradled in their mother's arms or playing with their dad." About 6 pages into the book there is also the image of a woman (in blue) giving birth to a baby (in black) with the assistance of another individual (in green). I hadn't looked through the book since Julian was a baby. It is kept on the top shelf of his closet with all of his other "special books". Last week he had asked to look at it, and I happily handed it to him, thinking to myself: "Good choice, buddy!".
Yes, Julian at the fragile age of 4.5yrs is now fully versed on the in's and out's (literally) of childbirth, all because I wanted to raise him with a keen appreciation for art.