It happened yet again. As I was sitting at the table for dinner with my children, I noticed my daughter's hand fishing around under her skirt.
"We don't play with our vulvas at the table. Go wash your hands and finish your food," I scolded. She nodded, ran off to wash her hands, and resumed picking at her dinner instead.
Small children, they touch themselves. A lot. It's fascinating to them. And when you're a small child, you have no sense of shame or disgust or fear of your body. Your body is what it is. It does what it does. And everything that it does is kind of amazing, because you're not old enough for lower back pain. It's not sexual, it's just... fact.
The first time I caught one of my kids playing with their genitals, I said absolutely nothing. I was momentarily paralyzed with indecision. One thing I knew for a fact I did not want to do was to shout, "No!" or "Stop!" What good could that possibly do? Sure, I would be spared the awkwardness of catching my child playing with her genitals on the living room floor, but what kind of lesson is that? To fear or ignore your own vagina?
I thought about it almost constantly for two days, and of course she gave me a second chance to react.
"Sweetie, we don't play with our vulvas in the living room," I said. Which sounded ridiculous and strange, but nonetheless true. Why is everything with little kids "we" statements? "It's OK to touch your vulva, but people are private, and it's a private thing. The only places where you should touch your vulva are in the bathroom or in your bedroom. If you want to play with your vulva, please go to the bedroom."
And she smiled and did, without question, because compartmentalizing where you do certain activities makes sense to little kids.
"We don't eat in the bathroom, and we don't touch our vulvas in the living room," became the new mantra. And yes, eventually it became, "We don't touch our vulvas at the table."
I'm what some people call "sex-positive." That doesn't mean I talk with my 4-year-olds about how great sex is and how good it feels. It means I don't pretend it's something other than it is.
As parents, we lie all the time. About the Easter Bunny or Santa or the Tooth Fairy, about how long 10 minutes is, about whether or not we remembered they wanted to have grilled cheese for dinner again... We lie a lot. But one thing I never lie about is sex.
I don't want them to grow up ashamed of their bodies or confused about what they do. I don't tell them about cabbage patches or storks; I make an effort, always, to be honest about human reproduction. Every aspect of it.
I've had talks with lots of other moms about having "the talk." I don't think my kids and I will ever have that particular talk, because they already know. And we talk about it often -- kids are obsessive creatures. We read Where Did I Come From? and What Makes A Baby, which together cover every aspect of the subject. We can talk about IVF and C-sections, because both of those are part of the story of their births, and we can talk about the fact that yes, mommy and daddy still have sex regardless. And when they're older, we'll start talking about contraception.
Because lying to your kids about sex helps nobody. Telling them that sex is "only between mommies and daddies" is a lie that leads to confused, hormone-charged teenagers. Telling them that sex is "only something that happens when two people love each other very much" is a lie that causes hormone-charged teenagers to confuse "love" with "lust," or "obsession." It leads to leaps of logic like, "If I have sex with this person, we must be in love." Or worse: "If I love this person, I have to have sex with him or her." And how many teenage tragedies are based on that misconception?
The truth is that human beings, almost universally, like sex. It feels good. And it's supposed to feel good. If it didn't, the human race would die out. The truth is that sex isn't special and magical just because it's sex. The truth is that you can have spectacular sex with strangers whose names you don't even know. The truth is that just because you can, that doesn't necessarily mean you should.
And that's what sex-positive parenting really is. Not telling my kids lies about sex to keep them from behaviors I don't think are healthy. It's telling them the truth, the whole truth, and letting it sink in so they can make their own good choices.
It's telling them that sex is good, but that it's dangerous if you're not careful. It's teaching them to require their partners to use condoms, to buy their own condoms if they're planning on having sex. It's teaching them that while sex feels good, they can feel good on their own too. (Just not at the table.) That while sex combined with love is often the best sex -- transcendent sex -- that grows the bond of love and builds a closeness that is almost impossible to find otherwise, sex isn't always like that, even with people you love. That sex can lead to pregnancy, even with protection, so engaging in it is a commitment to deal with any consequences.
It's telling them they're not wrong, or sinful, or bad, if they have sexual feelings. Or even if they have sex. It's teaching them that sex happens, whether people always make good choices or not. And it's giving them the tools to ensure that when they're ready, they're smart and cautious and conscientious.
There's a lot of black-and-white comparisons when it comes to sex education. Some people think that once kids hit puberty, if they don't have a strong fear of sex they'll have as much as they can, as often as they can. There's a lot of abstinence-only sex education, based on telling kids, "SEX IS SCARY! DON'T DO IT!" and it appears to be about the least successful program anyone has ever invented.
Telling children the truth about sex isn't giving permission for them to have it -- and this is the most important part -- because when the right time comes, nobody has the right to deny them permission for sex but themselves.
And that's the thing I try to keep in mind when I say things like, "We don't touch our vulvas at the table." Sex is something that ONLY happens when both people WANT it to happen. And that means that the only people in the entire world with any kind of say over whether or not my daughters have sex is them.
I don't get to tell my daughters they have to have sex, but I also don't get to tell them they can't. They're in charge. Your body, your decision.
I never want to be responsible for setting the precedent that another person gets to tell them what to do with their bodies, and especially with their sexuality. I don't want to be the gateway for a manipulative, potentially abusive boyfriend.
So I teach boundaries. Appropriate places. Hygiene. I teach my children that nobody is allowed to touch their bodies without permission. When we get in tickle fights and they say, "Stop!" I stop.
And when we talk about pregnant friends, we talk about uteruses and sperm and eggs.
And most of the time, it's not uncomfortable. Most of the time, I'm verifying information and the conversation lasts 15 seconds.
And someday the conversation is going to be a lot uglier. Someday, we'll have to actually talk about rape, and explicit and enthusiastic consent, and contraception. Someday we'll have to talk about healthy masturbation and pornography and realistic expectations of sex and sex partners and body image and a lack of shame for their bodies. And those conversations are not going to be as brief or straightforward.
But I'm ready. Whenever that day comes, I'm prepared. Because the groundwork is there.
"We don't touch our vulvas at the table." It's absurd, but it's got all the important pieces. It's a micro-lesson in safety and consent and social propriety. I don't think I'll be able to say "We don't lose our virginity in the backseat of a car after a prom party" with a straight face, but I will be able to say, "We don't have sex without thinking long and hard about it first, and we certainly don't do it without being careful, and being safe, and being totally confident in the maturity of our partner and our ability to handle the repercussions if we get a disease or get pregnant."
Because it's true. We don't.
But I like that when that time comes, I'm part of the "we." Because if I can tell my girls, "we" have to be careful, they'll know that no matter what happens, I'm still in their corner. I've still got their backs. Even if "we" make bad choices, I'll still be there to help make things right again.
Post by lyssbobiss, Command, B613 on Jul 29, 2014 14:07:30 GMT -5
I often tell Babycakes we only touch ourselves in the bathroom or the bedroom. This has totally backfired on me because when he's supposed to be pooping, he's always touching himself a little. I have no idea how to really curb it beyond that. At least I won't worry about his foreskin getting hard again. When he was a baby, we had to pull it back for him.
"This prick is asking for someone here to bring him to task Somebody give me some dirt on this vacuous mass so we can at last unmask him I'll pull the trigger on it, someone load the gun and cock it While we were all watching, he got Washington in his pocket."
...I will be able to say, "We don't have sex without thinking long and hard about it first, and we certainly don't do it without being careful, and being safe, and being totally confident in the maturity of our partner and our ability to handle the repercussions if we get a disease or get pregnant."
Because it's true. We don't.
But I like that when that time comes, I'm part of the "we." Because if I can tell my girls, "we" have to be careful, they'll know that no matter what happens, I'm still in their corner. I've still got their backs. Even if "we" make bad choices, I'll still be there to help make things right again.
I kind of love this part.
I kind of like the whole thing. It's being straightforward and having them understand that there's a time and a place... and to really think about it before they act. Isn't that what we want?
I couldn't get past the first few paragraphs but is this really 1000 words on what amounts to "it's okay to touch yourself but you need to do it in private?" Because that's really old info. Like isn't that in every modern parenting book now? And did that really require such a long expose?
I swear to god! Mommy bloggers have taken over HuffPo and they write the most inane shit about parenting. Dollars to donuts this is a mommy blogger looking for page hits.
Update: haha! Yes! Lea Grover IS indeed a mommy blogger. Shocked. Shocked I am.
And finally, I feel sorry for her daughter to have this plastered all over the Internet!
As parents, we lie all the time. About the Easter Bunny or Santa or the Tooth Fairy, about how long 10 minutes is, about whether or not we remembered they wanted to have grilled cheese for dinner again... We lie a lot. But one thing I never lie about is sex.
I don't want them to grow up ashamed of their bodies or confused about what they do.
I disagree with asdfjkl because I think THIS is the dumbest goddamn thing I've ever read. Fibbing a bit (or dodging the question) until the conversation is age-appropriate will not warp a child for life any more than telling them about a big guy in a red suit or a giant, anthropomorphized rabbit creeping into their house every year in the middle of the night, or a miniature flying person who collects human teeth. GTFOOH
It annoys me that she's congratulating herself on successfully coaching her children about sex and genitals, yet the kids are four. Which means she won't really be seeing the hardcore results of these discussions for years.
It annoys me that she's congratulating herself on successfully coaching her children about sex and genitals, yet the kids are four. Which means she won't really be seeing the hardcore results of these discussions for years.
And finally, I feel sorry for her daughter to have this plastered all over the Internet!
OMG I know. This poor kid is going to die of embarrassment at age 13 when her friends all find a description of her avid vulva-touching as a 4 year old.
Can I tell you all how glad I am that if H and I ever do have a kid I will know exactly how to handle this shit because you'll have all been through it? Teens and 'tweens stuff included.
"Not gonna lie; I kind of keep expecting you to post one day that you threw down on someone who clearly had no idea that today was NOT THEIR DAY." ~dontcallmeshirley
I'm sorry but I can't get on the whole "calling it by its scientific, anatomically correct name" thing going on. Plus I hate the word vulva, yuck.
Yes. I know it's technically correct, but it sounds SO pretentious. What's wrong with "vagina" or "privates"?
My mom called them our "parts."
There is actually good reason to use anatomically correct language because it makes it harder for a sexual predator to victimize your child because they will usually use cutesy language.
But I prefer vagina over vulva even if it's not technically correct.
Post by karinothing on Jul 29, 2014 18:13:35 GMT -5
All I know is that tonight I said to DS "if you want to play with you penis go to your bedroom in private" and he said "okay, i will go to my bedroom" and ran away. Clearly I win at parenting today.
I honestly don't know what will happen when he is older. I was very umm adventurous when I was younger and suffered a lot of consequences for it. Both physically and emotionally. Heck, I know first hand what drug addiction does to you too. I would like to have an open and honest conversation with my kid about that kind of stuff. Hopefully I will be able to.
I'm sorry but I can't get on the whole "calling it by its scientific, anatomically correct name" thing going on. Plus I hate the word vulva, yuck.
I know vulva is correct, but I think we'll still stick with vagina. I have no problem with saying penis and vagina to my child though. I guess even maybe clitoris? That probably comes later when she has more of a sense of there being different bits in there.
"Clitoris" is the one that terrifies me and I'm pretty much OK with them reading about in the super feministy sex books I'm giving them. I just can't handle talking in detail about orgasms with my girls.
There is actually good reason to use anatomically correct language because it makes it harder for a sexual predator to victimize your child because they will usually use cutesy language.
But I prefer vagina over vulva even if it's not technically correct.
I don't consider "vagina" to be cutesy, anyway. I mean, if PTS came home and said her camp counselor touched her on her vagina, I wouldn't think, gosh, I wonder if she means vulva. I would just call the police.
I agree that using words like "pee-pee" or "hoo-hoo" or whatever else people are coming up with could be problematic. But I think vagina is probably descriptive enough for a grade schooler.
I agree.
But the person who quoted me mentioned shed grown up with"her parts", which isn't nearly specific enough.
If we have a girl, we will use vagina, so I have no issue with that.
Post by omgzombies on Jul 29, 2014 19:41:04 GMT -5
We use the words vagina and penis in our house, and I often tell DD not to touch hers at the kitchen table. Welcome to the land of 4 year olds.
I have no problem discussing maturity in the context of sex. There are a lot of feelings that come along with sex, discussing that you and your partner may feel vulnerable, powerful, embarrassed, in love, seem like smart way to prepare someone for sex. Understanding these emotions and dealing with them was a large part of how I decided to have sex, and I'm ok acknowledging that. If you have sex, you need to know what the potential consequences are. What happens if you do get pg? How will you feel if it's discussed among your friends, and they think it's shameful, what if your partner turns out to be a total ass, what if your partner feels that there's more of an implied commitment then you do. There are potential consequences that come with most of our choices in life, giving them some forethought seems fairly practical. Doesn't mean I think that sex is bad or shameful, just that sex can be complicated.
This comes along with discussions of anatomy, consent, rape, free agency and autonomy, sex for pleasure, sex for babies and sex for intimacy, deciding what you want in a sex partner, etc etc.
I'm sorry but I can't get on the whole "calling it by its scientific, anatomically correct name" thing going on. Plus I hate the word vulva, yuck.
I know vulva is correct, but I think we'll still stick with vagina. I have no problem with saying penis and vagina to my child though. I guess even maybe clitoris? That probably comes later when she has more of a sense of there being different bits in there.
If my mom ever says the word "clitoris" in my presence, I will straight up DIE.
My mom tried to have the sex talk with me when I was TWENTY ONE.
Sex also feels good. You get to decide with whom, when, and for what purpose. Having sex for different purposes requires different plans. If you want to have sex for love, you should have it with someone you love (duh). If you want to have sex for fun, you should use birth control so you don't get pregnant and a condom so you don't get VD. If you want to have sex to have a baby, you should stay far away from the bump because those ladies will over think the shit out of that. And whatever happens, if you DON'T want to have sex, you never never have to. For any reason. With anyone. Under any circumstances. THAT is the conversation I want to have with my kids. "Make sure you pick a mature partner" is the language of the patriarchy.
I'm sorry but I can't get on the whole "calling it by its scientific, anatomically correct name" thing going on. Plus I hate the word vulva, yuck.
Yes. I know it's technically correct, but it sounds SO pretentious. What's wrong with "vagina" or "privates"?
My mom called them our "parts."
It's important that children have precise language as possible so if they tell an adult about molestation/violation it isn't brushed off or overlooked and the adults get a clearer look.
"Grandpa touched my privates" is way different than "Grandpa rubbed my vulva then put his fingers in my vagina." Speaking as a sexual abuse survivor who only had the language of situation A to try to describe situation B, it's not about your comfort or idea of "pretentiousness", it's about giving your children tools to either protect themselves or turn in those who violate them. If you won't tell them what their parts are, you are crippling their ability to report indiscretion if it happens.
I let my 8th graders use vagina in class when I know they mean vulva because they hate the way it sounds. I do make them do the diagram pretty early on in class though, so they know they're not the same.
With my girls, we use vagina for some of the same reasons mentioned above. Our conversations have been similar (vaginas are private. You can touch them yourself in the bedroom and bathroom but no one else touches them, etc.) When they are older, I hope they will get the message that sex is a healthy, normal part of relationships, and that it's also healthy and normal not to be having sex as a teen. That there are consequences and you need to be safe and protect yourself. You can always say no.
This is the same message I give my 8th graders in class, and since my girls will have me as a teacher...good times.
"Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you've got a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies-"God damn it, you've got to be kind.”
Yes. I know it's technically correct, but it sounds SO pretentious. What's wrong with "vagina" or "privates"?
My mom called them our "parts."
It's important that children have precise language as possible so if they tell an adult about molestation/violation it isn't brushed off or overlooked and the adults get a clearer look.
"Grandpa touched my privates" is way different than "Grandpa rubbed my vulva then put his fingers in my vagina." Speaking as a sexual abuse survivor who only had the language of situation A to try to describe situation B, it's not about your comfort or idea of "pretentiousness", it's about giving your children tools to either protect themselves or turn in those who violate them. If you won't tell them what their parts are, you are crippling their ability to report indiscretion if it happens.
"Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you've got a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of, babies-"God damn it, you've got to be kind.”