The Birds and the Bees

I finally did it. I had "The Talk" with Jack. The big one - the facts of life, the birds and the bees - basically the talk I never had with my parents. Don't get me wrong - I don't blame them for not having this discussion with me. I'm pretty sure it was a generational thing. I highly doubt their parents had the talk with them - they were too busy trying to learn English and working hard to make a living in America after escaping the commies and the Nazis and all the other evils of World War II.

I personally learned all about sex from Judy Blume books and my mom's Harlequin romance novels that she kept by her bedside. I remember sneaking into her room and flipping through the pages, lingering over certain sections and thinking "so that's how it happens". When my mom finally dropped a little booklet on my bed that looked like it was printed in the 1950s (when women attached their "sanitary napkins" with a belt - horrors!), I already knew what was what. After a day or two she asked me if I had any questions. I just shrugged and said no and that was our sex talk. I still feel weird when we're watching a movie together and people start getting naked. (Sorry, Mom! I just can't help it!)

Last year Jack had his first "Family Life Education" class at school in the fifth grade. When I was his age it was called "Sex Ed" - or "NOTHING" if you attended the Catholic School where I happened to be during those awful pre-pubescent years. While the kids in public school were getting "Sex Ed" we were busy in Religion class where sex didn't exist. I guess that's another reason I was so ill-informed.

When Jack came home from his first session of "FLE" I asked him what he had learned that day. He told me all about the egg and the sperm and then said there were a lot of other big words that he didn't understand and that it was all "kinda confusing". After more digging I was relieved to learn that he still didn't know what sex was. I wasn't ready for him to know at the tender age of 10. He's still my baby.

Then we started watching "Malcolm in the Middle" on Netflix over the summer. "Malcolm in the Middle", or M.I.M. as we like to call it, is a very funny show about a highly dysfunctional family with four boys, a high-strung over-bearing mother and a slightly unhinged dad who happens to be very affectionate with his wife. When we first started watching the show it seemed harmless enough - the sexual innuendo was subtle and I was confident that it was going right over the kids' heads. However, we are now on season four and the older boys are in high school and the word "sex" keeps coming up more and more often.

After a highly uncomfortable episode in which Malcolm's mother has an embarrassing conversation with him about sex, I decided it was time to talk to Jack and figure out exactly what he knows. I got my opportunity a few days later when he stayed home sick from school. I actually had butterflies on my stomach as I mentally practiced what I would say to him. This is ridiculous, I thought, this is my kid! Why am I nervous to talk to him about this?

I marched downstairs to talk to him about sex, but then he asked if we could watch Mr. Mom so I agreed and we turned the movie on. This movie is FULL of sex! The sleazy boss trying to put the moves on the wife, the sexy neighbor who flirts shamelessly with the dad while exposing her ample bosom at every opportunity, the surprise trip to the male strip club, an embarrassed Michael Keaton buying maxi pads for his wife at the supermarket (oh crap, I though, should I tell Jack about how women get their periods while I'm at it? Isn't that part of the whole 'how babies are made' conversation?).

By the time the credits were rolling I couldn't take it anymore. I took a deep breath and let it all out.

To be quite honest, I'd half expected Jack to react like Malcolm did on the show. "Oh, Mom, GROSS! Stop talking, Mom, stop talking!" But he didn't. Instead he seemed very interested and not the least bit disgusted when I finally took the leap and told him what has to happen in order for the egg and sperm to get together. I even took it one step further and asked him why he thought having sex isn't a good idea when you're a teenager (his response was "Because then you'd have a baby when you're still in high school?"). We talked about STDs and hormones and the fact that he might actually start liking girls soon, if he doesn't already. He says he doesn't but I don't believe him. I even told him about how girls get their period when they are his age and instead of being grossed out he wanted to know if that still happened to me and whether it hurt or not. Then he announced that he was glad he wasn't a girl.

By the end of the Malcolm in the Middle episode, Malcolm and his mom both seemed relieved and ended up talking a little bit more about a few things that Malcolm wasn't sure about. What started out as a horrifyingly awkward tv watching experience ended up as a perfect teaching and bonding moment with my son.

So thanks, M.I.M! But from now on, Ella and I are watching Leave It To Beaver reruns on Netflix. Those are pretty harmless, although I've caught Ward giving June some sly little glances when he says certain things. Interesting . . .