The Birds and the Bees - oh my!

This weekend reminded me that this business of raising children is messy.  It's messy for a lot of reasons, but most especially because we don't bring up our children in a vacuum.  And we don't have the power to control every aspect of their life - especially as they grow older.  Our children are now 6 & 9 years old and if you'd asked me 10 years ago how their rearing would play out, my imagining of it would be wildly different than the reality so far.  They are growing into independent, strong, creative, sensitive children who are already into checking their facts - I'm so grateful they don't just take information at face value - even when it makes me nuts that they question me and my assertions.  Alas, we continue on our adventure - them learning how to grow into productive adults and we parents learning how to help foster them into that life.  This weekend, however, served as a reality check for me.  I hesitated to write this post, but this happened.  And it will happen in one way or another for any family no matter the makeup.  So I decided to share this post - for all of us parents are in the same boat as we navigate the uncharted waters of raising children - Lord knows each of them is different and there's no real, set formula that applies to all of them.  What is set is the fact that the little people entrusted to us are gifts and we have to do the best we can to help them grow into the adults they are meant to be.  And so I begin...

Many moons ago, while serving a church near Charleston, SC, I helped teach a class for parents titled "How to Talk with your Kids about the Birds & the Bees" - the irony was that I was not a parent at the time.  But, what I learned in preparing for that class is that it's imperative for us parents to make sure we're the primary sex educators of our children.  After all, the playground, school bus or a buddy's older sibling usually won't have the facts completely straight, so it's up to us to be sure the facts are right and that they're framed within our family's values.  Philip and I take this responsibility very seriously - especially having both a son and a daughter.  We've talked about how we'll handle this sensitive subject making sure that our messages are consistent and that he and I are on the same page before we say anything to the kids.  The other thing that class taught me was that, as parents, we need only answer the questions our kids ask - no need to volunteer extra information - if they want more info, they'll ask.  In that vein, we've told both our children that we'll always answer their questions truthfully and that they are welcome to always ask us anything.  The only qualifier is that sometimes we have to wait until we're home or away from others to have sensitive conversations out of respect for ourselves and other people.  Lastly - what I learned from that class is that children's questions often don't fit our timeline; instead, they fly at us out of left field without us having any sort of preparation and we've got to seize the opportunity for communication, put on our big kid pants, dig in our heels and answer the best we can when they ask.

Preamble finished.

Last year, while Philip was in Port Hardy I was putting a tired Henry to bed and I, too, was worn out and ready to turn off my brain for the night when he piped up, "So mom, what exactly do you do when you have sex?"  Seriously???  Brain back on - and quick.  "Well, Henry, what makes you ask that question?" I asked.  He replied, "Somebody was talking about it on the bus and I want to know what it is."  Hmmmm, "Henry, do you really want to know?"  And he said the one word I didn't want him to say, "Yep."  So I put on my clinical hat, explained the mechanics and closed with the fact that sex is something intended for people who are married and that it's very complex and not to be seen as casual or simple.  Then I started singing our regular bedtime songs, very quickly, so I could catch my breath and stop the talking for a little while.  After all, in my head this scenario would have happened over ice cream with Philip and they would bond and go play golf or something.  Alas - here we were - smack in the middle of 'out of the blue' and when we finished singing he said, "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard in my life."  And I assured him that it was totally OK to think that.

Fast forward to this Saturday.  We'd spent the day on the mountain - the kids and Philip skiing, me spying on them skiing, hiking in snow and reading.  We got home tired, cold and wet.  Kids immediately got showered and into jammies and Philip was on the phone.  While he was catching up about politics, sports and whatever, Lydia sidles up to me and asks, "So mom, have you ever had sex?"  SHUT THE FRONT DOOR - ARE YOU SERIOUS????  YOU'RE SIX!!!!!  But what I said was, "What exactly does that mean?" to which she responded, "I need to tell you in your ear."  Ummm - OK.  She whispered away and she was dead on and I affirmed her understanding followed, naturally, by asking where she'd learned this information.  She told me movies - which I let slide but I knew it was complete hogwash because we watch movies WITH her and knew we hadn't gone there.  Philip and I have super-hero-lightning-quick reflexes even flipping through channels so that we, I can confidently say, have NOT exposed her to these images.  Later she told Philip that she had learned from a friend on the playground...so here we go...  She wouldn't drop it, and asked again [emphatically this time], "But have you done it?"  Well, folks, we have two children... She cackled with laughter and declared that she just had  to tell her brother - which prompted my next speech.  I told her sex was designed for people in married relationships and she wanted to know about the whole baby part so we got into the clinical explanation of how babies are made and that this is a conversation that needs to stay in our family because it's up to families to decide when they have this talk and it's not a school conversation, blah, blah, blah.  All this went down before Philip was finished on the phone.  But - we'd promised our kids to answer their questions truthfully.  Aren't I a lucky girl...just not as lucky as Philip.  He followed up gently on the conversation - it's important to us that our children know we share important information with each other - and that's when we learned about the playground conversation that spawned her initial question.

Sunday morning (the morning after this little chat with Lydia) we woke up and all four of us were sitting at our dining table having breakfast.  One thing I love about our apartment is where our dining table sits - it's toward the corner of the room, nestled between two walls of floor to ceiling windows.  The sunsets are incredible and we have a view of mountains and the sea.  The coveted chair is the one that points directly at the corner of the windows - the one that provides the best view.  Living in a city, specifically in a high rise building, we're surrounded by other high rise buildings - this has never been an issue.  We were talking about our day - preparing to go to church, planning our afternoon, high fiving the kids for finishing their homework on Saturday morning so we didn't have to worry about it - then it all went south.  Henry happened to have the coveted seat this morning (we have to keep track of who's turn it is) and he said - "What's going on over there?"  I glanced and really thought someone was being hurt - there were a couple of people in the hotel next door and they were moving in an odd sort of way in front of the sliding glass door and I was about ready to pick up the phone to call for help.  And then...we all clued in at the same moment...and I raced to our windows to pull the curtains (super-hero reflexes don't apply as well to curtain closing, it seems).  Alas - the damage was done - curtains didn't get closed before the couple disappeared and Philip and I were faced with the fact that now our children had been exposed to full frontal nudity and behaviors that can go with said wardrobe.  I don't know who was more scarred - the kids or me.  But we discussed the importance of modesty and again reiterated the marriage rule and that this wasn't a conversation to have with friends and that this was something other people aren't intended to see.  We went on to church and lunch and then had a great afternoon in the city.  We saw the celebrated cherry blossoms, finished up taxes, walked all over the city and ended up at a half-price appetizer dinner at an outdoor café - yummy.  Then sweet Henry piped up, "I'm still pretty freaked out about what we saw this morning."  Um yea.  "Me too, honey," I told him.  And then the questions started again and Philip and I went with it - answering to best of our ability and praying that the message we're trying to convey is sinking in.

So there you have it folks - the birds and the bees - about as honestly as our family can make them.  God knows it's not easy but I've got to say that I'm glad to be on this side of 'the talk' - at least the first one - and am grateful for the framework our faith creates for this and lots of other difficult conversations.  And I'm grateful it's not just one talk, but that we've started a conversation and our kids feel like they can come to us about anything [regardless of how awkward it makes us feel].  I'm grateful that I don't have to anticipate what it's going to be like when they ask or when we sit them down to tell them because we've gotten past that.  Turns out, 'the talk' pairs well with chicken wings, short ribs and a big ole beer for mama and daddy.  I'm deeply grateful to have Philip as my partner, with whom I can team up for these conversations.  And we can honestly say that we've embraced the call to be our kids' primary educators - in this realm, and hopefully all other ones too.