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Teaching Kids About Sex

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My boys are still young but I wonder when it will be the appropriate time to talk about sex with my kids. We have three boys in our family and no girls. We have always been consistent with teaching the correct names of body parts but the topic of female body parts never really comes up.

I always figured that my boys were more interested in their Legos and other toys than they were in the physical make up of men and women but the funny thing about kids is that they always surprise you. A few years ago when I was pregnant, my oldest son asked me not about how the baby got in my belly but about where does it come out. I was caught a bit off guard and honestly answered him, “Some babies come out of their Mom’s tummies.” Unable to get off that easy, my smart 4-year-old asked, “What about the other Mommies?” “Well,” I hesitated and rubbed my forehead nervously. “Some babies come out of tummies and some come out of other spots.” I was dreading where this conversation was leading me. I didn’t want to have to explain about private areas. I just wanted to read “Goodnight Moon.” But there was no distracting my curious boy despite my best efforts.

He leaned his head close to mine and said in a deep voice, “Where’s the spot?” I couldn’t help giggling as I sweated out the conversation. “It’s a private area and the baby just comes right out [yeah, who’s not being truthful now?] and then the body just heals up.” He looked at me as he wrinkled his forehead and processed the information. “Like the private area where the pee comes out?” “Basically, yes.” “Oh. Can I have another book before bedtime?” And that was that. He asked his question, got his answer and moved on.

I had to tackle the topic of how the baby got in there with a different son on a different day. My 5-year-old had a kindergarten teacher who was pregnant so one day he asked me innocently, “Mom, you know how some ladies have bellies that have babies in them? How in the world do they get there?” I was driving in the car and nearly spit my hot coffee all over my windshield. There was no warning. I wanted to say, “It’s only 8 a.m., kid.

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