Yesterday, I was minding my own business on the living room couch when I was interrupted by my stuttering daughter.
My eleven year old was sputtering her way through some words, but even though I was trying to listen I just couldn't make anything out of what she was saying. Eventually I realized she had some sort of question about sex (which stemmed from some fairly innocent things she had encountered in a book -- she is reading the Twilight series at the moment -- actually she has been begging to read these books for quite a while and after some conversations about truth vs fiction and healthy human relationships Josh and I agreed to let her read them).
However, she was being horribly squeamish about the whole thing. She wanted to know how Bella ended up pregnant in the fourth book.
Um, while the book is not graphic, I sort of thought she would manage that one on her own as there really is not a lot of variety in the logistics of that process.
This is soooooo not how I was hoping to spend the quiet moments of my morning.
I said, "Well, how does a woman get pregnant."
She turned bright red and sort of hemmed and hawed around the whole thing culminating with twitching eyes and a muttered, "I don't know."
Oh my gosh. Seriously! I said something to the effect of, "Yes, you do, come on." But Aubs wasn't playing along. She was obviously embarrassed, but still hanging around because wanted her questions addressed and was hoping I would drop the whole "mom" thing and just get to the heart of it.
Well, just then Logan (age 6) wandered into the room. I took advantage of that and asked him, "Logan, how does a mommy get pregnant."
He rattled off a pretty simple explanation (6 year old, remember, he doesn't need gory details just yet) about a man's penis in a woman's vagina. Nice job, son! (He takes after his father in this arena.)
Aubrey conceded that this was an acceptable answer, but seemed to be looking for more. So I pulled out my trusty human anatomy book and we talked a little bit about sperm and eggs and the like. Logan was interested as well so he tagged along in the conversation. After an uncomfortable start, it turned out to be a pretty good learning moment.
Until we got to the part where Logan wanted to know if Josh and I ever did that (had sex).
Me (trying to keep my panic tucked in): "Yes, son, we do."
Logan: "Do you do it a lot?"
Me (swallow the panic): "Well, that is really pretty personal and is between me and your dad."
Logan (thoughtfully): "Where do you do it?"
Me (panic seeping out now): "Well, Logan, that's not really something you need to worry about. It's pretty private."
Logan (inquisitive little monster): "How about the grocery store? Do you and dad ever do that in the grocery store?"
Me (panic): "What! No! There are lots of people there, we wouldn't do that in the grocery store?"
Logan: "What about in the bathroom at the store, no one would see you there?"
Me (that's it, I'm leaving the room now): "No, Logan, it's pretty much just something we do at home where NO ONE can see." And that's when I was suddenly needed somewhere else in the house for something...at least that's the story I'm sticking with.
Shake my head, what a little trouble maker.
I am so grateful that the kids will come to me when they are looking for info. I want them to know that it is safe to ask me ANYTHING (even if it doesn't feel safe to me all the time, some of these questions are much less comfortable to address than others). I don't want them wondering about the truth and stumbling on muddled or misguided answers from friends or other sources. I want them coming to me.
Even if it is awkward for me.
I guess the ceiling on my sex talk endurance may be low in some spots. Trust Logan to push my limits.
Man oh man, I do wish they would go to their dad with this stuff once in a while.