When are we supposed to have "the talk" with our children? I have a feeling I'm fast-tracking this involuntarily. When Paige was 2 1/2, she walked in on us during the act.
Instead of handling it in a mature, nurturing way, I threw myself under the covers and yelled, "OH MY GOD! HOW LONG HAS SHE BEEN IN HERE? AHHHHH! OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD, OHMYGOD!"
Let me explain my intense reaction. It's not like she toddled in, we saw her, and stopped. She was there for a while. She set up camp on the end of bed without either of us noticing. A few stuffed animals, her sippy cup, blankie, and a barbie. She made several trips from her bedroom to ours without a peep.
And the way she was standing there. Her elbow on the edge of the bed like she was at a bar, drinking out of her sippy cup, just hanging out. I'm surprised she didn't interrupt us to request a refill on juice.
I have to assume that my embarrassing reaction made it worse. I'm almost certain I shrank myself into the fetal position and began rocking back and forth while sucking my thumb.
That's how traumatizing it was for me, so I can't imagine the damage done to my daughter.
But she didn't seem damaged at all. She looked at my husband like, "What's her fucking problem?" Then asked for toast. Maybe I'm in the clear because she was so young. I'm praying for that.
Or it could be even worse than I imagined and she toddled into her big sisters room and told her. I can see her leaning on Parker's bed with her elbow, drinking out of her sippy. "Man, I've got some good information for you, my friend. You won't believe what mom and dad are doing before breakfast..."
Lesson learned: Lock your bedroom door.