It’s happening. That moment when you realize your children are now venturing out of their naive innocence; closer towards their own independence, away from you.
“Mom, we are having the puberty talk at school”. He nervously states from his perch on the stairs, hands clasped together between his knees which are opening and slamming shut in rhythmic succession resulting in an awkward, yet humorous slow clap.
Oh god are the only two words I could formulate in the super highway that is now my mind; fight or flight mode in full swing.
“Oh…Do you want to talk about it?” I articulate as water cascades off of the plate that has been rinsed for the 4th time and onto the counter creating a perfect distraction; anything to avoid any sort of long lasting eye contact with my son.
Over the last few inquisitive years, I have managed to maneuver my way around such conversations; being as vaguely informative as I could. Using terms like “mixing DNA together to make a baby” I have made the conversation one that does not give them too much information for their small, innocent consciousness to process, but enough to expand their minds in preparation for more information in the future.
Yesterday was this day. The day I had to sit down with my son, a medical dictionary (which was my first ever chapters purchase at his exact age) and mascaraed as a parent who was fully prepared to explain the female and male anatomy. My first struggle was how much was too much for my 9, soon to be, 10 year old son. Playground chatter and giggles I am sure, have hit his ears like waves. How much has he already learned? How much of this is true, accurate, healthy information?
I decided, best to start with the basics. I asked if he knew the difference between girl parts and boy parts, and their proper names. He snickered; I almost gave myself a paper-cut turning the page to a side cutout of our lower extremities. Through his giggles he formed the sound a “P” would make, paused, and completed the word uncomfortably “Enis”. As the word escaped his mouth he began to giggle with an akwardness that made me realize that this was another one of those teaching opportunities I am so often graced with. “That’s right” I responded “but it’s not a word you should be ashamed to say. Could you imagine how one of your friends, or a girl who’s going through this would feel if they saw everyone giggling?” He’s body language softened and he showed signs of remorse as his little mind processed what I was asking. “Not very good about themselves mom”.
We then went over names of other parts, using proper medical terminology. If I could give any advice to parents going through this; use a medical book. The photo I used was a side cut out (sounds gruesome I know) but it made the process less likely to invoke laughter; it was scientific and will hopefully encourage him to understand the inner workings of the body rather than an external photo that he would compare himself to. I then hesitantly flipped the page to a diagram of a uterus without child and one with to explain what happens to women every month when they are not expecting a baby, why this happens, and how a baby survives in the womb. Now, the reason I was hesitant was because I was expecting the next question to be “how did the baby get there?” And I was unsure if I was ready for that yet. The question didn’t come, so I took a big deep breath, and I asked him if he would like a book to read on this subject or if he would like me to explain it to him. He (relieved) agreed he would like to learn on his own and ask me questions after.
He gave me a two armed, wrap around and squeeze hug before he thumped off in his usual goofy boy manner up the stairs and into bed.
I was left with my thoughts. “Did I do that right? Was I too detailed? Not enough?”. My next thought was, as feelings of sadness and pride conflicted in my chest, when did this happen? When did he go from his Lightning McQueen obsession to asking questions about body hair and man voices? It all happens so fast, and it’s going to continue to happen quicker and quicker. And I began to realize, this was more of a learning experience for myself. I began our conversation incredibly uncomfortable (which triggered a pang of guilt and to reflect on myself). How could I possibly be a successful parent if I am not courageous in these moments. How will I encourage them to talk to me about issues they may be having openly and honestly if they view me as someone who gets uneasy. I grew from this experience; as I do with most of my parenting endeavors.
My goal is to have a relationship with my children that condones communication. That encourages positive body image and acceptance of others. To have them disprove incorrect information and be leaders with their friends and acquaintances. I feel like this step; this massive step in our relationship is one that opens doors that in a lot of adolescents lives have been padlocked shut.
They are still so young, and there is so much more I am going to have to teach them. But if I accept this inevitability with grace and delicacy; letting go, when the time comes, will not be as difficult, as I will have confidence in how I have built them up to be healthy, intelligent teenagers and eventually adults.
Alyssa's MOMoirs 