I thought teaching my children about sex was going to be tough.  Wrong.  Teaching Math is tough.  Teaching chores is tougher.  Teaching them to drive is by far the toughest.  Sex, piece of cake.  Well, I've taught, lectured and explored the topic for more years than I've had children.  I should know something about it.  Right?  Sit down and read a bit of perfect nonsense.

My mother was always very forthright and honest with me about sex.  I can't remember ever really having questions.  But then I have the Know-It-All type of personality that is rather irritating in a young child.  So of course I had no need to ask questions.  Kind of like the stars twinkling at night.  You know, Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.   Somewhere I got the impression that Twinkle was a SOUND.  And of course, the night sound of the stars twinkling was very reassuring.  Until I was thirteen and there was a star making twinkling sounds in our carport.  Curious, I hunted the fallen star only to discover....a cricket!

Not asking about sex was kind of like that.  I knew whatever I needed to know so why ask.  But then one summer something happened.  Something unmentionable.  Period, you think?  Nope.  Hair.  Oh my!  I thought something was terribly wrong!  There was no way I was going to tell my mother!  For several weeks I worried and then I started school and required showers.  Hmmmm...normal.  Ok.  I am NEVER going to be shocked again!

I was not raised LDS.  It was the biggest relief to join the church and learn the counsel to be modest in bathing suits.  In my teen years I had followed the fashion of wearing bikinis.  I hated it even if I looked pretty.  I would walk around with my arms wrapped around my midriff and try to get hidden in the water as quick as possible.  Let me tell you what a bikini can do when you dive off a board.  Oops!  But that isn't quite as bad as when you stand up at the beach after body surfing a strong wave.  Double Oops!

Now my husband, he was raised LDS.  Totally.  Faithfully.  Blissfully ignorant.  He just always knew that sex was something to wait for, something wonderful for after marriage.  And he did.  His delightful mother had the greatest sense of humor.  Neil and I were married on a Thursday morning.  Our wedding reception was Friday night.  Do the math.  Then picture us Friday afternoon at my new in-laws home, sitting in their small living room across from my new sister-in-law who was nursing her second baby.  Neil's mother took him into her bedroom and because the door was open Becky and I could hear every word.

"Neil, maybe you should read this book."
"Ah mom, I read that a long time ago."
"You did?  Oh.  Maybe Cherie will want to read it."
"Mom, she majored in this stuff in school."
"She did?  How was she?"
"Mom!"
From the living room my natural defense took over.  If you are going to be embarrassed then laugh.  I yell out, "It's too late, mom!"
My sister-in-law smiled and said, "Oh, its never too late, it just keeps getting better."  Hmmm...my new Mormon family.

I went on to teach childbirth classes, to help in births, to help my husband in his college studies to be a chiropractor and even to be a guest lecturer at his college.  Did these things prepare me to teach my own children?  I thought so.

Luckily for me, Chani was my oldest.  Not only a girl, but a girl who trusted me and believed everything I taught her.  I remember taking her aside with my big graphic teaching aid.  The kind for teaching a class of pregnant women.  Gee...things look awfully big when you have a book that size sitting on your lap.  We discussed it all.  And of course there were the films.  Films?  Remember those childbirth classes?  I had films of births.  Lots of them.  And I loved to show them when I was pregnant.  Every other year my children sat through my films.  My sons hated it.  My daughters liked it.  I guess.  But they certainly understood how babies got out.  How they grew.  But until I taught Chani, she had no idea how they got in.

I explained to Chani that it was my job to teach her younger siblings and she was to keep it private and allow me the freedom to decide when it was best for them to know.  Obedient Chani.  Really.  She did just as I had asked.

I had to teach Chamrie early.  She is a unique young lady.  Pretty headstrong and all knowing.  Sounds like anybody else I described?  She wanted her ears pierced like her sister.  I had Chani wait until she turned twelve.  Kind of a right of passage thing.  Actually, I wanted her old enough to take care of her own ears.  But that whole experience is another story.  It is enough to know that Chamrie hated the fact that there was 5 1/2 years between she and her older sister.  And twelve just wasn't going to come fast enough.  She bugged and bugged me until I finally "compromised."  Clever mom.  I told her she could have her ears pierced when she turned twelve or when she had her first period, whichever came first.  Hehehe...silly daughter, she was content with that, thinking she had won something.  A few months before her 11th birthday, Chamrie had her first period.  Pierced ears and The Talk followed immediately.

About that time I realized that my son was older then Chamrie and would have to be taught as well.  I turned to my doctor husband and said, "I did the girls, you do Ben."  No problem.  I left it in his capable hands.

A while later my six year old son came to ask me a question.  "Mom, you know those things that go up and down?"
    "Huh?"
    "You know, those things that are sometimes up and sometimes down?  How do you have more than two children when there are only two of them?"
    "Nathan, are you talking about testes?"  One of my boys had floating ones but they eventually stayed down, so no problem.
    "I guess.  How do you have more than two children?"
    "Nathan, who have you been talking to?"
    "Ben."  About then I saw my 12 year old son peeking around the corner.  I got it!  He was in on the question but didn't want to ask.  I called him in.  After a few minutes I realized that my doctor husband had given some kind of a talk to our son but for the life of me I can't figure out what they actually talked ABOUT!
    I gently set some things straight.  Giving my younger son just as much as needed and little more.  He was happy and ready to go play.  So was Ben but he wasn't so lucky.  I made him sit down and listen to me.  As I started to talk he started to groan and forcibly said, "Yuck!  Yuck!"
    I have this wicked sense of humor and chuckled.  And told him a little more.  Suddenly he got very quiet.  Then he whispered, "They don't know that."
    "What?"
    "They don't know that."
    "What?  Who?"
    "The girls.  They don't know that."
    "Yes they do."
    "How'd you know?"
    "I taught them."
    "Oh Yuck!  Yuck!"

Of course it didn't end there.  When you have nine children the subject is bound to repeat itself.  So when my third daughter was rapidly approaching twelve I began to worry just a bit.  She seemed super reluctant to arrive at her birthday.  Reluctant isn't even the right word.  If she could have skipped off the planet she would have packed and fled.  Worrying that something was wrong I took her aside for a very quiet talk.

It came out, eventually.  She's the type that feels strongly, deeply, spiritually, and talks little.  Sometimes extremely frustrating for her very verbal and blunt mother.  She didn't want to change like her sisters.  She hated the change and didn't want it to happen to her.  Oh my!  How could I have missed that she was feeling so awful about her wonderful body?  I turned to the only thing that I knew worked...it had worked before, after all.  I pulled out my giant book and taught my very quiet daughter.

When I was finished we just sat next to each other.  Holding each other.  And in the silence I heard my angel's voice.  "Mom, why did you tell me this?"
"Because I wanted you to know what it is all about.  The plan that Heavenly Father has for you.  It is wonderful, not something to be dreaded."
"Mom...when I said I didn't want to change like my sisters...I meant that I didn't want to stop playing.  All they want to do now is sit and talk!  They don't want to play anymore!"

Ah well.  Life moves on.

Beyond the talks and lessons and films there are the normal conversations that come up in life.  At least in Logan Life.  Because of Logan Mother, no doubt.  That wicked humor that I mentioned shows its head every once in a while.  I can't help it.  I really get a kick out of embarrassing my husband, or children.  In fact, they know that it isn't an idle threat when I say, "If you think doing some things might be worth the consequences, just imagine how easily I can embarrasse you."  And I do.  Like the time that the Family Home Evening Lesson was on something that my girls had refused to learn no matter how gently I had taught them...proper disposal of well...you can imagine.  So could my children after the lesson.  Neil just shakes his head at me.  But then...my oldest daughter started bringing her friends over to be taught by me before their marriages when their parents were unavailable.   How'd I get to be the Sex Ed Guru when I try to reserve that for the parents?!?

The reality is that while I can talk and teach, when it comes to personal romance I am extremely private.  I cannot bring myself to do as our good friends did when to escape for a few minutes from their home with nine children they went to find a secluded parking spot.  No Way!  What if I was caught?  And they were.  They noticed as they drove to the darkened spot that they were followed.  Closely.  And becoming more and more frightened the husband pulled over hoping the car behind them would keep on going.  But it didn't.  It stopped and the driver got out and started towards their car.  Looking up my friend saw a familiar face!  "Hi mom!  Hi Dad!  I saw you driving around and wanted to say hello!"  Sometimes you just can't get away.  But me..I'm more private than that.  I'd have died on the spot.

Private or not, in a family things happen.  We lived in a four bedroom house.  Two bedrooms on the main floor and two in the basement.  Since Neil's dad lived with us, a stroke victim, he had the bedroom next to ours.  We needed to be able to care for him and it worried us to have him too far away.  That meant that all the other children were downstairs.  This was ok except for my baby.  As long as my baby was nursing I just couldn't send her downstairs.  So while all the other babies had slept with us for about twelve months, this one slept with us longer.  Too long.  No problem though.  There was always the living room couch for her to slumber on sometimes.

But then children grow and at the same time she was sharing a room with us, that all knowing sister had become a very intuitive teen.  One day Chamrie came and said, "Mom, I have a question."  Looking at her she had that silly grin that always meant one of two things.
    "Chamrie, when you smile like that you either want something that you already know the answer is no or you want to know about sex."
    "There isn't anything I want to do that I shouldn't."
    "Ok, sex then.  Spit it out."
    "What do you do when...with...I mean, Chalae..."
    Now let me tell you, my entire reputation was suddenly on the line.  In that one moment I was about to survive or fail as the honest, blunt, brave mother that I had presented to the world.  I could see it coming and taking a deep breath finished it.
    "We put her on the couch.  So if you ever see her on the couch...DON'T knock on my door!"
    "I thought so.  She was on the couch last night when I came up to get some water."

    Whew!  I'm finished with this subject.  Next child gets the book and can wait until his wife can explain more!

1.  Be honest.  Use words and phrases you are comfortable with.  Teach them what is normal and right.  Remember periods and remember those little dreams your sons will have.  If you are matter-of-fact and up front then as shy as they may be about things, they will listen anyway.

2.  Express yourself spiritually.  For me that means knowing my relationship to God and where the romantic relationship fits into His plan.

3.  Keep the conversation from being about you except in those very rare moments when the spirit demands that you open up a little more than you are inclined to do.

4.  Decide on what will be taught when.  My girls know that I haven't discussed everything with them. They also know that I will.  They can't get away from it short of my death.  In fact, I can tell you that I doubt their husbands will be able to get away from me either.  But, that lies ahead of us.  We live in a time when they are exposed to more than we want at an earlier age.  Answer questions, be comfortable, and it is an ONGOING process.  I talked about The Talk but in reality it is a talk that happens often.  It should. They think about it often.  They won't say much so have your thoughts organized.  If you repeat yourself enough they will know what is coming and often open up more.

5.  I believe strongly in teaching the spiritual and emotional aspects of rape and molest.  I want my children to know beyond doubt that the Lord and their parents take a firm stand on the innocence of victims.  I want them to know that they need never stay with an abusive companion.  Important conversations that should never be avoided.

6.  I feel the same in discussing sexual behavior outside of marriage.  Its better to stay morally clean than to have to repent.  It is better to repent quick before the sin gets worse.  It is better to repent no matter how painful or embarrassing than to get dragged down spiritually.

7.  Teach them to avoid pornography like the plague.  Teach them why.

8.  Give them tools to help them stay pure.   Expect them to use those tools.  Caution them not to fall into the trap of thinking that Good people don't sin.  Wrong.  Teach them that love doesn't mean marriage.  Love doesn't mean sex either.  The Holy Ghost will support love, we've been commanded to love everybody.  That doesn't mean we are to marry everybody!

9.  Mainly expect the conversations to be over and over.  Line upon line.  Start when they are young and expect talking about it even after they leave home.  Normal conversation.  Sacred conversation.  And add a touch of humor to get over the rough moments.

10.  Be prepared to help Dad.  The poor guy really wasn't made to adjust easily to his children growing up.  And I don't think I'll ever ask Neil to give another one of those talks again!

And if you can't enjoy it...at least imagine that someday your child will be in the same spot with their own children...and giggle just a little.

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