“Mommy, what is sex?” Ethan asked, fiddling with the tag on his Spider-Man pajamas.
“Well, that’s a complicated question. We really need to get to school. Today is the day you get to finish your Leprechaun traps!”
Thank goodness we were late. Again.
I knew this conversation was inevitable, but I never expected it to happen amidst tooth fairy visits, sewing superhero capes, and reading “The Cat in the Hat” for the umpteenth time.
According to my frantic online research on “sex talk with a 5-year-old,” I should respond quickly to build trust and promote a healthy attitude toward sexuality. Apparently, his curiosity was natural, but my plan to avoid this talk until he was 37 was clearly misguided.
I scoured the internet over and over, desperate to find the right words. The pressure escalated as I envisioned myself as the ideal “good mom.” You know the type—the ones whose kitchen cabinets stay orderly, who never let Tupperware lids fly across the floor, and who tend gardens in pearls and perfectly manicured nails.
Above all, good moms are always ready for the big talk about sex.
When Ethan got home from school, I prepared a snack of celery and peanut butter topped with raisins, spacing them just right to resemble the “ants on a log” I found on Pinterest.
We sat down at the kitchen table, and I took a deep breath, arranging my face into a mask of casual seriousness. “Sweetie, I wanted to talk about your question from earlier.”
Crunch
“What question? And why does your face look funny?” he asked.
“About… you know… what you asked me this morning,” I said, hoping he’d forgotten.
Crunch
“Oh yeah, the sex. My friend Lily said her mommy and daddy did the sex and now she has a baby in her tummy and that her mommy was going to poop it out soon.”
Crunch
“Sweetheart, please chew with your mouth closed, OK?”
“OK. I really like this celerey, Mommy.”
“Celery.”
“Celery!”
“Right, great job!”
“Do you have a baby in your tummy right now, Mommy?” he asked, eyeing the food baby I’ve been trying to lose since 1992.
“No, honey, I don’t.”
“Maybe you should have the sex with Lily’s daddy, so you can get one.”
Now both my eyes were twitching. I took a deep breath. “It doesn’t work like that, Ethan.”
Actually, it does, but Lily’s dad has those awful teeth and I’m pretty sure my partner would not approve. Focus, Jamie. “Sex is something that happens when you really like or love someone, whether it’s a girl, a boy, or sometimes both.”
Oh gosh.
Whenever I feel nervous, my ability to filter my thoughts goes out the window. Job interviews are not my strong suit.
“My friend Ben told me you get a baby by hugging and kissing someone really tight,” he said, licking the peanut butter from his fingers.
“No, sweetheart, that’s not quite right. Sex is a special thing you do with your body and another person or group of people—never animals or family members—who share those feelings.”
Crunch
Why didn’t I just make peanut butter and jelly?!
“It’s important to use protection if you want to avoid unpleasant surprises like itchiness or, um, children.”
Oh dear.
“Mommy? Can I have more celerey?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Can I eat it downstairs?”
“Well…”
“Please? I’m bored, and I want to watch some TV.”
I had never been so grateful for a 5-year-old’s short attention span! “Yes, of course!”
He jumped out of his chair, hugged me tightly, and exclaimed, “You’re the best mommy ever!”
Rolling my eyes and shaking my head, I donned a string of pearls and tackled the Tupperware cabinet.
Not.
For more insights on this topic, check out this post on home insemination or visit Make a Mom’s resources for more information on home insemination. The CDC also offers great information on pregnancy and reproductive health.
In summary, conversations about sex can be awkward, especially with young children. However, addressing their curiosity openly and honestly is crucial for building trust and fostering a healthy understanding of relationships. With a bit of humor and patience, we can navigate these tricky discussions while still maintaining our sanity.