How Not to Talk to Your Kids About Sex, Hormones and Reproduction

so i had to have The Talk with my little girl the other day... you know, the one about hormones and babies and omigod periods. i've put it off because she's my baby, and once she's grown up, i won't have a baby anymore. i'm not willing to actually give birth to another child, so i kept her as an infant for almost ten years. that makes sense, right?

anyway, i digress. i had to have The Talk with her, and i related it to my beau afterward, and he said i had to write about it. what the heck, here goes.

so we're in the car, headed to the store after a particular skunky morning on her part. nothing made her happy, the sheer act of breathing made her cranky, and she had the attitude of fifteen bitchy drag queens trapped in her poor little preadolescent body. she was a miserable creature, and i mentioned that she seemed kind of hormoney.

from the back seat, she asks me what that means.

half of my brain says, "tell her nothing! ask her about hannah montana. ask if she wants a popsicle when she gets home. DO. NOT. HAVE. THIS. CONVERSATION." visions of her wee baby toes were dancing in my head. this is not the child in the training bra. this is the child in the hand-knit pink sweater and bonnet, chewing on her toes.

the other half of my brain goes, "dude. [because my brain calls me 'dude' on a regular basis] this is the perfect time to have that talk. you know the one-no, quit with the baby toes. you know you have to do this. don't be crappy mama. get on with it already. come on, ya wimp. let her have it."

ok ok ok. deep breath.

"so um, you know how you're like, getting boobies? breasts, i mean. you're getting breasts."

from the back seat. "uhhhh-huhhhh..."

"yeah, ok so that means that you're like, turning into a woman and stuff."

back seat says, "i'm nine. well almost ten. but i'm nine."

"no i know, right? you're still totally a kid. but like, your body is getting ready to like, change into a woman and so like, it's hormones. hormones make you turn into a woman."

back seat: palpable uncomfortable silence.

"ok, um... so you're getting boobs, which is cool, right? i mean, jess has boobs, i had boobs before i had, well, never mind, it wasn't your fault, anyways yeah, boobs are cool. boobs are awesome. right?"

back seat says, "i guess so... they're boobs. i don't have any yet. it's not like i think about them."

"yeah, totally. but you're getting them, and you're also going to get like, hair. on your hoo-hoo. your vagina. you're going to get hair on your vagina. and in your armpits. it's totally normal. everybody gets it."

back seat emits horrified sounds of disgust.

"yeah i know, but you can shave your pits, and you know, whatever else you want to. your legs and you know... i mean, it's a matter of personal taste."

back seat informs me that she's totally shaving her pits.

"right on, yeah, so when you need it, i'll get you the stuff. and ok, while we're at it, do you know how babies are made?"

back seat says, "sort of. not really. kind of."

"oh boy. ok, um what do you know about sex?"

dead silence from the back seat.

"right, nothing, right? ok, so here's the deal with that. so you know how chickens lay eggs?"

back seat: "chickens?"

"yeah, and like, pigeons and stuff. lizards. platypuses. whatever. egg-laying creatures. they lay eggs, right?"

back seat informs me that she thought we were talking about sex.

"no, we are. i'm getting there. the thing is-this is gonna sound weird, but i swear it's the truth-you have these things called ovaries. can you say ovaries?"

back seat: "oh-vuh-wies."

[note: at this point, i feel like mr. rogers' perverted cousin.]

"ok, and you have a uterus, right? that's where the baby hangs out before it's ready to be born. you know that, right?"

back seat: "yes. you always say that anyone who used to live in your utawuss has to come in and help clean up the house."

"yeah, exactly. so the ovaries, ok, basically, you lay eggs. ova. your body makes these eggs called ova, and once a month, your ovaries kind of let one of those go, and it starts traveling to your uterus."

back seat is terrifyingly silent. she's taking all of this in. oh god, i have to tell my baby about sex. if i don't tell her, she won't know about it. she'll never do it! NO BOYS WILL TOUCH MY INFANT. yeah, i wish i was that dumb. deep breath, and let's continue.

"ok, so when a baby is made, conceived, it's called conception, how that works is people have sex. ok? and basically, ok, you know how your brothers are always yelling about being hit in the balls?"

back seat mutters a very confused sounding yessssss...

"ok, so those are actual real things. balls. they hang out right behind the penis. and they make this stuff called semen and it has sperm in it. and the sperm has to meet the egg, and that's how a baby gets started. so in order to get the sperm to the egg, people have sex, which is just, the man puts his penis inside the lady's vagina and they like, move around and stuff, and then the sperm comes out, and if it meets up with an egg, then a baby might be conceived. ok?"

back seat: "uhhhhh... ok... "

"ok so here's the kind of freaky part. this is going to sound really fucked up and scary, but it's not scary, it's just the way things work, and it's totally normal, i mean it sounds like some kind of weird science fiction thing but it's not. so the deal is, your uterus fills up with blood every month, waiting for the egg and sperm to meet up and make the embryo. you know what that is. so if there's an embryo, it implants into all that blood in your uterus."

back seat: "oooo... kay..."

"yeah, and so if there isn't a baby, an embryo, then your uterus doesn't need all of that. so it like, gets rid of it. basically, you um... ok i swear this isn't nearly as bad as it sounds... you bleed from your hoo-hoo for a few days every month. and then, you know about tampons and all that. pads. yeah, you just use those and you're good."

back seat: "uh-huh..." followed by a sound like laughing at someone being tortured. that someone, of course, is me.

"so. yeah! that was fun, right? do you have any questions or anything? any information you want to impart or take in?"

back seat: "NO. can i have a popsicle when we get home?"

"oh god yes. mommy needs a drink, anyway. popsicle for you, and a beer for mommy. sound good?"

i really, REALLY suck at this kind of thing.