Updated at the bottom

We talk a lot around sex as we talk about infertility, but many people get pretty damn squeamish talking about sex.  But you’re going to have to talk about sex if you end up parenting because it’s part of the package: you need to prepare that kid for the world.

I’m coming at this topic as a former health teacher for middle schoolers who has had her share of jaw-dropping questions left in her classroom’s anonymous question box.  And while my average readership may not have a child yet or your child may be still in diapers, this is a topic that anyone who is planning to parent or is currently parenting can’t wait years to think about.  You have to have a strategy, and the best strategy begins at birth.  Well… okay… a little after birth.  But still.  It starts much earlier than you think.

Tomorrow is National Youth HIV and AIDS Awareness Day.  But Melissa, you say, kids don’t have to worry about HIV.  But did you know that “40 percent of new HIV infections are young people ages 13 to 29.”  If you don’t want your child to be part of that 40% statistic, you need to educate them, and you need to do so early.

According to the Kinsey Institute, the average kid loses his or her virginity before he or she graduates high school. For boys, it’s an average of 16.9 years, and girls lose their virginity on average at 17.4 years.  Some parents are worried that starting the sex conversation conveys a message that they condone their child’s sexual exploration.  But isn’t the opposite possibility ten times scarier than teaching your child how to put on a condom?  That they could be left without vital information that could protect their overall health?  In addition, some parents unrealistically believe that they know with certainty that their child is a virgin.  The reality is that statistics tell a very different story about the frequency of teenage sex.  The best approach is to believe only what you know to be fact and accept that your child may be part of that statistic above.  You’ll never know unless you catch them in the act… or ask.

There isn’t a magic age to start talking to your child about safe sex.  Like most charged topics, the conversation best unfolds in small steps over the course of many years.  Start soon after birth getting your child comfortable talking about his or her body as well as opening up the path of communication between yourself and your child.  While you may feel inclined to use a cute term when referring to your child’s genitalia, it’s actually more helpful to label their penis or vagina just as you would all their other body parts. (Yes, I’m aware that the visible genitalia on a girl is the vulva, but since no one calls it as such, we went with the more common vagina in order to minimize confusion.)  The point is to make them comfortable with every inch of their body.

In elementary school, the focus may be on HIV itself; not talking about how it is transmitted but more the concept that there are diseases that can be passed through contact with blood.  This is a good age to discuss HIV in terms of safety.

In middle school and high school, the conversation needs to include that the disease can be passed through sexual contact and how people can minimize their risk by utilizing condoms or asking sexual partners to get tested for the virus.

And as a former health teacher, I have a bit of advice on how to open up this conversation with your child, regardless of age:

• Choose a time when you’re both not distracted.  Put down the mobile phones, turn off the television, and look each other in the face.  A second choice would be to open the talk while you are driving and your child is in the car for a long drive.  This way, if you’re nervous, you can keep your eyes on the road.

• Take away sex’s power.  You may be coming into this conversation with baggage about sex.  You may have beliefs about sex or have had a negative experience with sex or feel empowered by sex.  And all of that is about you.  This conversation is about your child.  Do not make sex larger than it really is: don’t let it loom huge in your mind like a bogeyman who is going to turn your precious, innocent child into a crazy sex addict nor make it the end-all-and-be-all of the teenage years.  Your children are looking to you to figure out how they should feel about sex.  If you are too emotional, too anxious, or too dismissive about sex in this conversation, your child will pick up on that energy.  You simply want to present the facts and not inflate sex or give it more power than it should have.

• Find out how much your child already knows.  Most schools start education about sexually-transmitted diseases such as HIV even before they begin their lessons on sexual health.  In addition, your child will pick up information from other kids.  Gently correct any information your child misunderstood from class or the playground.  I’ve always told the twins that my job is to educate them, but their job is not to educate others.  They should allow other kids to have their parents educate them.

• Let the conversation be child-led.  Tell your child that you plan on presenting them with information in a moment, but you’d rather first hear what questions are rolling around in their mind.  The information may end up coming at them out of order, but allowing the conversation to unfold with the child in control of the flow of information is not only empowering to the child but it provides you with a fill-in-the-blank approach so you know what to say next if you start to get nervous.

• If you’re feeling nervous, use a book.  Think of it as your script, and you’re just an actor, presenting the story.  Peter Mayle has a great set of two books that have been used by parents for decades for younger children.  You may want to gift teenagers with a book such as Changing Bodies, Changing Lives, which is a book similar to Our Bodies, Ourselves but aimed at teens.

• Be frank.  Your job is not to scare them or coddle them.  It’s to present the information without telling your child how to think or feel about their sexuality or various sexual acts.  Information provided concisely and clearly, without emotion, leaves the power in your child’s hands to decide the path they wish to take.  Don’t leave them in a position where they feel they need to use sexuality as a place to rebel against you.

• Be honest.  If you don’t feel that your child is old enough to know certain information, the best thing you can do is explain that you will happily answer the question fully at a later date, but right now, you’re telling them what they need to know.  The worst thing you can do is lie or blow off your child’s question.  If their question makes you uncomfortable, explain that to your child.  But don’t shut down conversation by making them feel wrong for coming to you with a question.

• Don’t let your sole discussion of sexuality be doom and gloom.  Most parents keep their discussion of sexuality to topics such as HIV or teen pregnancy: not the cheeriest elements of sex.  If you’re opening up this conversation with HIV, make sure you counterbalance it with pointing out the good things about sex so that sex does not become something scary that must be avoided.

• Don’t be afraid to share your values.  Even though you don’t want to make decisions for them, it’s fine to let your child know your expectations and why.  It’s not enough to simply ask your kids to wait until adulthood to have sex in the same way that it wouldn’t deter you if someone simply pointed at a door and asked you not to open it.  On the other hand, if someone asked you not to open the door because there was something behind that door that could harm you and they were trying to protect you, there would be a much stronger impetus to follow their directions.

• You don’t have to share your personal sexual history.  Your child may ask out of curiosity or to gauge whether you’re having similar life experiences.  You can explain that you ask them about their sexual history in order to help them make good choices since you are there to guide them as their parent, but that in general, a person’s sexual history is something they should volunteer to discuss and not have questioned.  On the other hand, you may have regrets about when you lost your virginity, and it’s okay to use your personal story to explain why you’re asking something different from your child.

• Leave the door open.  Remind your child at the end of the conversation that while this particular talk may be over, that you know questions and new information pop up over time.  Make sure they know explicitly that you are a resource for information.

And that’s how you get through the dreaded sex talk and give your children the tools to protect themselves in the process. Don’t count on your child’s school to educate them about their bodies or sexuality. That conversation is best played in your court, providing a sound foundation for schools to build from.  And the talk begins much earlier than you probably think.

Update:

Please don’t wait to start having this talk with your child.  The LA Times reported this week that sex education in schools often comes too late to be helpful.  The article states: “Among teen girls who were sexually experienced, 83% told interviewers that they didn’t get formal sex education until after they’d lost their virginity.”  Don’t wait for schools to step in and educate your child on life.  Sex education has to begin at home.

For those who have been following my on-going saga with the “other” category in iTunes, holding your breath as you wait to see who would win in this battle of wills (please, isn’t a blow-by-blow of phone issues a scintillating read?), I will tell you that the end of the story is like a magician’s trick: you have no clue what just happened, but it was definitely cool and there were lots of doves flying out of handkerchiefs and stuff like that.

Just to recap: the “other” category in iTunes had gotten so large that I couldn’t keep necessary apps on the phone.  “Other” was the largest use of space on the phone.  An aside: I am well aware that this is a first world problem.  But I was (1) cranky that I had a tool that couldn’t do what I needed it to do because I couldn’t figure out how to fix it, and (2) I felt so much anxiety having wasted space filled with corrupted files on the phone.  Let’s not discuss my mental state, but please remember that I am the woman who bleaches the inside of the dishwasher regularly.  I like things neat.  I do not like unnecessary apps much less files that I can’t find on my phone.  It was like carrying a mess in my pocket at all times.

So I was going to restore to factory settings to see if that cleared up the problem.  I decided that yesterday would be a good day to do this because if all went to hell — which it did near Thanksgiving when the phone was accidentally erased due to some bad advice I received as we tried to fix this problem — I had the rest of the week to haul myself back to the Genius Bar for help.

I synced the phone, and the “other” category was around 6 GB.  I synced the phone a second time, and the “other” category climbed to 6.24 GB.  I worried that some of my calendar information didn’t come over with the sync (what can I say?  I’m thorough and I bleach the inside of my dishwasher), so I synced one last time.

And then, without so much as a whisper of abracadabra, the “other” category showed 882.4 MB.  And I had a sea of free space.

I blinked at the screen a few times, synced the phone a few more times to make sure the free space wouldn’t disappear, and then loaded back on all the apps I haven’t been able to have for months due to my “other” problem.  Oh, and in a daze of disbelief, emailed Allison to say, “what the hell?”

I wish I knew what changed; what made the phone finally self-clean-up its mess.  All I know is that I felt a huge sense of relief, as if my phone had finally blown its nose and dislodged all the gunk it had been sniffling around for months.  It made me feel calm, collected, mentally clearer.

It’s sad when something so tiny can niggle me in such a huge way, and the inverse is equally sad too: that I can feel such a sense of inner peace at having this problem solved.  But I own both facts.  I feel really really peaceful having that mess cleaned up, even if I don’t quite know how it happened.

I like everything in order: from my notes to my phone.  Clean.  Neat.  Corners straight.  Apps in their proper place.

My cousin posted a picture on Facebook of the Millennium Falcon that her husband bought her on eBay when she mentioned to him that her mother would never get her the toy when she was a child.  This prompted a few people to chime in with the toys they coveted as a child.  I really had to rack my brain to come up with one.  Which probably tells me that the desire for mine didn’t run particularly deep. (Note to Josh: Please do not buy me mine.  It actually creeps me out quite a bit when I look at it now.)

I remember all my old favourite toys from childhood: my Andy Gibb doll, the rubbery Kentucky Fried Chicken man (he was a doctor who performed horrific experiments in our games), my Playmobil sets (especially the knight one that had a pure white horse with a matte finish), and the Missing Link.  But it took me a lot of thought to come up with one toy that I wanted that my parents wouldn’t get me.

And that is the disembodied Barbie head.

Image: Mike Mozart via Flickr
Forgive the fact that Mike Mozart is in the photo above.  It was the only image being offered under a CC license.

It was a plastic head, about life-size if Barbie was the size of a ten-year-old child, and you could style her hair and smear “makeup” on her face.  I assume I was not given this toy because (1) it made a mess, (2) it was poorly made and the makeup left behind a dingy tinge to the plastic skin after one use, and (3) it taught girls bad lessons about their appearance blah blah blah.

My friend had this disembodied Barbie head, and I liked playing with it at her house, even though she wouldn’t allow me to run with great ideas such as shading in all of Barbie’s skin with the green eyeshadow (you know, to give her a peaky look pre-vomit) or giving her black lips with a Magic Marker.

It’s really a bizarre, out-of-character toy for me to want considering that I still, to this day, do not wear makeup.  I don’t mean that I don’t put on foundation, etc.  I mean that I don’t even wear lipstick.  Or eyeliner.  Nothing goes on my face.  Pretty much ever.  I don’t really style my hair insomuch as I run some gel through it and let it air-dry.  Or I slick it back in a bun if I can’t deal with having hair touch my face.  So why the hell did I want a toy where I could practice a skill I would never employ in my adult life?  Isn’t that the point of child’s play?  To work out how we think we’ll navigate the adult world?  Beyond a phase in high school where I wore blue or black lipstick, I’ve never had any desire to wear makeup.

Oh well.  Next life, when I’m reincarnated, I’m totally going to covet something better.  Like that Millennium Falcon.

What toy did you want as a child?  And would you still want it if you got it as an adult?

Thank you for the recommendations on the Roundup for books and documentaries pertaining to the British royal family.  A few were in the library (and we found a few others on YouTube, though got distracted by the original footage of Princess Diana’s interview with Bashir which ran in the background of The Queen), and we’ve already started watching a documentary on the Queen’s Jubilee year.

In it, the announcer attributed a quote to the Queen: “I have to be seen to be believed” and explained how this concept conveys into action.  She is on the road constantly, abroad and at home.  She is purposefully amongst the people as a tangible reminder of their government, of living history.  Because the opposite is true too: if she remained locked up in the castle, she wouldn’t have a deep connection with the people.  How can you when you don’t see the people you are administering to, and they can’t see you?  How can they feel affection for you if you barely seem real; this far-off entity that feels like a character out of a piece of historical fiction rather than a living and breathing human.  With feelings.  Because… that’s sort of the point I think she makes walking amongst her people: I am here.  I am real.  I am a human being with feelings, just like you.  I am vulnerable, just like you.  I am mortal, just like you.

Image: The Irish Labour Party via Flickr

As we watched the documentary, I kept turning over that idea in my head because I sort of feel that writing our blogs follows in the same vein.  Our words have to be seen to be believed.  That we need others to read our words and consider our words (or else, we’d write in a private journal) in order to mark our existence.  We’re here.  We exist.  We have feelings.  We need people to believe in us, perhaps not in the same way that the Queen needs her subjects to believe in her.  But on a small scale, we all need a few people in this world to believe in us, to believe that we’re good people, worthy of being around — or, at least our words are worthy to be around in the virtual sense.

We need to be seen.  We need to be believed.  We need to be believed in.  We need people out there to show us some interest.  We need to feel a connection to the people around us, through leaving behind our words or reading someone else’s words.  We need to comment, to interact.  That belief is a social contract; that we are both acknowledging each other, nodding our heads.  I’ve noticed you.  You’ve noticed me.  We both have recognized each other’s existence.

I kept thinking about how deeply hurt the Queen was in the movie The Queen (yes, it’s fiction, but… I assume based on something more than just assumption) when she walked amongst the people outside the palace after learning that one in four wanted to be done with the monarchy.  That hurt stemmed from being completely misunderstood, with having meaning attributed to her actions (staying at Balmoral) with people only knowing a small slice of the story and assuming they knew the whole thing.

And again, we see the same hurts play out daily in the blogosphere; the snarky comments, the misconstrued words, even the helpful criticism that makes the writer feel like shit when they see their foibles noticed in black and white.

Most of the time, we don’t take it with the grace the Queen continues to show year after year of living out the entirety of her life in the public’s eye.

There’s a lot you can learn from older generations.

On a side note, all these documentaries and movies are making me walk around the house, speaking in a horrible British accent.  The ChickieNob and I particularly like to say to each other, “P-p-p-p-positively medieval!”  Or, “it’s ma’am, as in ham.  Not mah’am, as in palm.”  We’re so going to end up as living history reenactors.

The ChickieNob has fallen in love with the British royal family.

Up until now, her affection has been entirely for US presidents.  She is freakishly knowledgeable about presidents, first ladies, first children, and first mothers (though, strangely enough, not first fathers).  Oh, and first family pets.  And the White House itself.  She can name every president by sight, rattle off a few facts about each one, tell you their administration’s major accomplishments, and give you a quote or two from one of their speeches.  I’m telling you, she’s a great party trick.

And then, a few weeks ago, just like that, stories about the Queen were suddenly in our home.  She started talking about the British royal family as if they were distant relatives on the family tree or characters in a particularly juicy book.  She affectionately gave her opinion on everyone from Queen Victoria to Kate Middleton.  And she followed on my heels while I tried to cook, telling me all about their various affairs and arranged marriages and wars.

We let her watch The Queen (she is fiercely protective of Diana) and The King’s Speech with us.  We’re looking for other great movies or documentaries you can recommend.  I think that Elizabeth is a little too racy for her.  (The King’s Speech is rated R, but it’s for language.  And language doesn’t really bother us.  We just don’t want mature themes or violence.)

Has anyone seen (and can give an opinion on) any of these films?  I know nothing about them:

• The Young Victoria
• Hyde Park on Hudson
• Elizabeth: The Golden Age
• Wallis and Edward
• The Madness of King George

Or really, recommend anything tied to the British royal family (at any point in time).

I’m sort of digging having the royal family verbally around.  They’ve really grown on me.

Ooooh, just wait until she branches out into prime ministers.

*******

So we decided to do a party for the twins’ birthday, and we’re going with a Minute to Win It theme.  Dozens of games which each take one minute to play with the kids divided into two teams.

It’s less work than their original idea, which was “The Spring Olympics” where they wanted to come up (and have me execute) eight “Olympic”-like games.  With a full medal ceremony at the end.  Uh… no, thank you.

This is a lot less work.  A lot less fuss.  Just make two cakes, grab a few props, rope in a few friends to help, and we’re good to go.

*******

And now the blogs…

But first, second helpings of the posts that appeared in the open comment thread last week.  In order to read the description before clicking over, please return to the open thread:

• “This is Why I Read Your Blog” (Stirrup Queens) — thank you, St. Elsewhere!
• “I Finally Made it” (Waiting for Baby Bird)

Okay, now my choices this week.

No Words to Say It has a post about being a perfectionist and how that affected her during her struggle with infertility as well as the transition into adoptive parenting.  She writes so gorgeously about her connection with her child’s first parent, “I looked up at her, and suddenly, I knew that trying to look and sound perfect on the day that we met was ridiculous. I knew this because the eyes mine met in that moment were my own. There was no need to be perfect. There was just a need to be me. To be the best I could be for her. And her.”  The post is just beautiful and an important reminder.

In a very brief, mostly visual post, Mona Darling gives us a fantastic Eleanor Roosevelt quote.  One that maybe everyone should have posted somewhere prominently (and permanently) in their field of vision.

Edenland gives us a post to bookmark and read every time we get a nasty blog comment.  All of the stages are applicable to any angry encounter in the face-to-face world too.  It’s brilliant advice that will hopefully get you quickly to stage 5.

Lastly, I cannot resist sharing Two Adults, One Child follow-up Disney post.  Ooooh, I just love Disney, and all of the advice she’s giving is bookmarkable too.  It sounds like a lot has changed from the last time we were there, including the magic bands and the way they now do FastPass tickets.  So I read it now, but then I bookmarked it to save it for later because… Disney!

The roundup to the Roundup: Recommend movies about the royal family.  The party idea we ultimately decided to do.  And lots of great posts to read.  So what did you find this week?  Please use a permalink to the blog post (written between March 28th and April 4th) and not the blog’s main url. Not understanding why I’m asking you what you found this week?  Read the original open thread post here.