The Importance of Making Sex Talk

Brief introduction and some blog business:
This is the story that inspired last week's panel on talking to kids about sex. I have a little bit more experience than I implied. Sorry. The panels are not exactly non-fiction. Speaking of panels, I will still be bringing you experts from around the world, but on a biweekly basis. Weekly was just not working, coordinating flight schedules, not to mention grave digging was becoming unmanageable.

Upcoming panels include:

Toddler Nudity - with special guest speaker Ruth Handler!
&
Sleep: Why Won't They Do It? - featuring millionaire author Jennifer aka Binky Bitch!

Stay Tuned!

Last summer, on an hour long car ride, Matilda asked me where babies come from. So I told her. They grow in a mother's womb, for nine months, until they're ready to come out, and then the mother gives birth, and works really, really hard to push the baby out, and then there's a baby.

But of course she wanted to know how it got in there. So I explained that each tiny little baby is made from two parts - the egg from its mother and the sperm from its father. The two parts combine to create a baby, and then it grows, etc.

But then she wanted to know how the two parts got together. So I told her. The mommy and the daddy have to have something called sex. When two people really love each other... I went all the way. She listened quietly. She knew already what a penis was and a vagina, and who had what, and she listened as I explained as discretely and simply as possible how the two come together to fetilize the egg and create a baby.

I'm sure that some people would say that I gave her too much information, perhaps you, dear reader, would count yourself in their number. But there are two reasons why I gave her all the facts at the tender age of four:

1) I explain everything to her. Sometimes she remembers what I tell her, sometimes not. This is okay. I believe that learning is a process that is both gradual and cumulative. It is not necessary for her to understand everything right now, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't hear it. Much of what I tell her she will ask about again, I do not expect her to retain every detail of what I say, but say it I do, for better or for worse. And she listens, most of the time. In fact, only once has she stopped me and it was during a walk in town when I offered to explain what a courthouse was. She didn't care, didn't want to know, and told me not to tell her. So I didn't. But when she asks, and she does want to know, its my job to tell her, even if it makes me uncomfortable.

2) I do not want either of my daughters to think of sex (or their bodies) as something secret and shameful. I know it might seem a bit early to be thinking about their self-perception as teen aged girls, but in a world full of Bratz dolls I think it can only help to encourage them now to be knowledgeable and proud of themselves and their bodies. (This is one of those beliefs in which I have faith. There is no solid proof that it will work - yet, call me in ten years.)

So that was last summer. We have not spoken of this since, for which I am grateful, but also curious - how much does she remember?

Flash forward to a couple of weeks ago. Matilda and Freya have just watched Disney's Peter Pan in which the Darling family has three children: Wendy, John and Michael. As they sit eating dinner, their conversation centers on the possibility of a third child in our family.

Matilda: Freya, what do you think it would be like if we had three kids?

Freya: Yeah, good!

They look at me.

Me: Uh-uh, no way. No more kiddos for us. We like you two just fine.

Freya: (with that evil look she does so well) Maybe there's a baby in your tummy right now, Mommy.

Me: Mmm, no.

Matilda: (in her best teacher voice) No, Freya, Nell and Steve would have to make sex to get a baby, right Mom?

Me: (both proud and trying not to giggle) That's right.

But she continues.

Matilda: They've made sex two times, one time for me, and one time for you.

At this point I had to leave the room to avoid spitting water all over the table and freaking my children out with hysterical laughter. So I did. But there you have it folks, the true story of one mother's efforts to teach her daughter about sex.

I swear I didn't say anything about "making sex" only for procreational purposes, but what the heck, a small misconception like that can only help in later years, right?