She is in Year One at school now, and let me tell you, there is no certainty like a child who has discovered something at school. Here is a conversation we had this week:
G: Is baby Jesus dead?
Me: Well, some people think so. Some people think he died and then came back to life.
G: and some people think that baby Jesus was eaten by someone.
Me:...um, no. No they don't.
G: Yes they do. Someone ate him.
Me: [Ponders a discussion on transubstantiation].
Six is an interesting age. There is a solemness to it, a sense of awareness that hasn't been present before. Year One represents a big transition for G, and she has lamented the fact that she gets to play now far less than she did in Reception. There is a sadness about that for her, and I feel it too. She is generally a cheerful soul though, and also points out that at least there isn't as much arguing over dolls.
She is of course starting to make sense of her life and her family. They were discussing their lives, homes and families at schools a few weeks ago, which is why I suspect we ended up having the following conversation:
G: But Mummy is my proper Mummy though, isn't she?
Me: Why?
G: Because I came out of her tummy.
And she did come out of her Mummy's tummy. But, as I then explained to her from the driving seat of the car (why do these conversations always happen on the motorway?), I helped make sure she was in Mummy's tummy. It was mine and Mummy's decision to have a baby, and we were the people who got the 'help' we needed to make a baby. We made her together, and I am just as much her mummy as Mummy is. She didn't say very much and then promptly fell asleep for the rest of the journey.
I can't deny that I shed a tear or two after that conversation. But I also have to acknowledge that this is almost certainly the result of a conversation that she had in the playground with another child, a child who was curious about a different family set-up to their own. G and I have a unique and close relationship, which I am proud and protective of. That she can have these conversations with me, however painful, is a good thing. Her honesty and her curiosity will stand her in good stead as she grows and experiences life.
