And they ask the hardest questions

I was feeding the baby of the bunch this morning while the older two were watching t.v. While the baby was having "baba", Eldest daughter asked me how I got the milk into my babas. Uh, um, pause, how do I explain this to a 4 year old???? I told her the lamest answer that I could think of as fast as possible. Uh, "when she was in my tummy, my body made the milk." What else could I say to a FOUR YEAR OLD? I was glad that she dropped it and didn't ask a follow-up question. Although, I know one will be coming soon because she tends to ask these difficult questions out of the blue sometimes.

Like the one about where I come from. Because she is adopted, she knows that she did not come from my tummy. She came from the hospital. Her sisters came from my tummy, but brother came from the hospital like her. So, out of the blue, she will ask me where I came from or where random people came from. I am just waiting for the day when she says "where did the hospital get me from?" It is that day that I better have my adoption story book finally in print.

Yes, someday, I would love to write a children's book on being adopted. Every time I try to find one, I think they are so cheesy or too fairytale-ish. Tell the truth to the kid but make it a great joy. Yeah, I'll get right to it in my spare time. Although, if I have enough time to write this, I probably do have enough time to do it. Excuses, excuses, excuses.