It is now hitting me that I am a changed woman. Motherhood has done a number on me.
One of the instances that brought this into sharp focus is the "nipple" conversation my man had with the punk the other day (referenced in my last blog post). When I was first married, I could not say this word. I had probably never said it in my life before the age of 22. As Sarah mentioned in my comments, this word is gross. Yes indeed. I have an aversion to the word "nipple" like my man has to the words "panties" and "moist." But apparently, one can't be a mom - especially a breastfeeding mom - without acknowledging this gross word as part of her anatomy.
You may wonder why the 2 year-old punk even knows this word. I certainly never say it to him, not even in reference to his little brother's eating habits. No, he learned this word months ago from his dad, who thought it important (rather, entertaining) to teach him where his own nipples are. And not only their location, but their sound. Cows say "mooo," pigs say "oink," and the punk's nipples say "wikki-wikki." Incidentally, his belly button says "wooba-wooba." Bet you didn't know body parts could talk!
Actually, if you're a mother of boys, or married to a man, or have ever lived with brothers, you know that body parts make plenty of noises. And that when this happens, these noises must be acknowledged. And celebrated. And that's the unfortunate topic for another day.