A couple of weeks ago, I decided that, finally, I was going to tell my 10 year old daughter about about the birds and the bees. I know, I know - I've waited so long. I had been thinking about it for the last year and a half but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. She was comfortable with the c-section story and didn’t appear at all interested in finding out how the baby got into my belly in the first place, so I thought – why shatter innocence?Then a note came home from school informing me that as part of their “Fully Alive” education this year, they would be learning about SEX!! Well if I needed a catalyst, I guess this was it, so I went to the library to do some research, spent days figuring out how to break the news about Mom and Dad and how she got here. I was really stressed about it. After this she would NEVER look at me the same way again, so approach, sensitivity and timing would all be critical.
I considered using my Gray’s Anatomy book to illustrate but that seemed too clinical. Then I thought about getting a movie to explain – but well, other than “those” kind of movies, I was not sure where I’d find one. After some deliberation I realised I was going to have to do this the old fashioned way and find the right time to have “the talk".
I followed my daughter around for three days looking for that perfect moment. She’d sit down to do her homework, look up and say “wanna help?” and I’d think about how I could weave sex into math. There were some interesting, um, angles but then - nah, I couldn't keep a straight face! And when you're laughing, that's not the best time to talk about sex.
She’d practice piano and ask me to her adjust the metronome, look over her fingering, clap out the timing. It seemed a quiet enough moment but with every beat I'd hear the clock, time ticking away reminding me I was stalling. It was as if I was 10 years old now, my mother watching over me, nagging at my procrastination, the lack of discipline I had in getting things done. And when your mother gets into your head, well, gross, that's not the best time to talk about sex either!
I decided to try another way – this time playing Wii. Her latest favourite is the High School Musical game. The fact it was a somewhat loud and distracting was not lost on me - yah I know, call me chicken - but I thought it would be a great opportunity to use some of my dance moves to blend in or even act out! So, I jumped right in the middle of “Get'cha Head In the Game”, did the funky chicken and yelled, “Guess how babies are made?!”
She smiled and slowed down to which I yelled "No!! Don’t stop! I'm talking to you!"
But then she just started laughing at my moves and well, when your kid starts to laugh at you, that’s not the best time to talk about sex.
I gave up. I couldn’t do it, couldn’t find the moment, couldn’t get over the embarrassment, couldn’t connect with my daughter. Ashamed, I went to my room and opened up my latest novel, Alan Greenspan’s “Age of Turbulence”.
She came upstairs to say sorry she laughed at me and that she didn’t mean to hurt my feelings.
“That’s ok” I said. “I didn’t really want to dance. I just wanted to talk.”
“About what?”
I explained I got the “Fully Alive” letter and I wanted to tell her about it before the teacher did. I asked her if she knew how babies were made.
“Yah.” she said meekly. “I’ve known for a long time.”
A long time?!!
How do you spell failure? How about W-A-Y T-O-O L-A-T-E!!
Apparently, her BFF’s 17 year old brother told them at a birthday party sleepover! I could just die!! I mean I could just kill him but after that I could just die. This was MY special mother/daughter moment and some pock-faced, four-eyed teenage Dr. Ruth, who I am sure has never, EVER gotten lucky, beat me to it!
After I recovered, I decided I wasn't going to let that sex-ed neophyte ruin my special moment (and duty) so I said “Darling, I’m going to tell you anyway.”
She blushed and yelled NO!! NO!! NO!! - then threw her face into the pillow and wouldn’t look up. I explained all the basics, just as I suspect the teenager did but I added in a bunch of stuff on commitment and love (which I’m sure the teenager didn’t). I stuck to sex ed 101. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about 201 - even though I’ve heard some awful things about Grade 8...
Anyway, we got through it, I said thanks for listening and reminded her if she ever needed to talk, I’d always be there. She just said “can we talk about something else?”
"Sure!" I said. How about Alan Greenspan?
