I grew up in a generation and a family in particular that had rules about what could be discussed openly. Many topics were, or at least seemed to be, off limits. It was never OK to share anything that happens in the bathroom and certainly no one talked about what happens in the bedroom. I don't know if these were imaginary rules of my own making or if I just picked up on them as I went along. I'm just telling you how it felt.
I know that my mom did want me to have good information about sex, for example. In fact, I still have a book that she gave me about How You Got to Be You or something like that. I don't remember her giving me the book...if she handed it to me and said, "Read this and let me know if you have any questions." Perhaps she did. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt because she was, and is, a great mom all things considered.
One thing I did feel is that I already knew more than I thought my mom thought I knew, if that makes any sense. I'm not sure if she thought that she was my only source of information and so if it wasn't something she had told me I was in the dark. Particularly in my teenage years I can feel the eye rolls coming on as she tried to give me warnings or instruction or whatever she felt I needed, and believe me, I did need all of those...it just seemed so uncomfortable because there was not an openness to talk about any of it.
Men, you can check out right now as I give a distinctively female example of the lack of communication about all things bodily related. No really, go ahead and skip to the next paragraph. OK, now that they are gone, let me tell you this super embarrassing fact. When I got my period, I made my own pads out of toilet paper for months before asking my mom for feminine hygiene products. I remember laying out one summer at my grandparents pond refusing to get in the water past my knees because I did not want my toilet paper pad to disintegrate in the water. I think back on that now and I almost feel sad that I was so scared to ask my own mom for maxi-pads.
OK, hopefully any male readers have done themselves a favor and heeded my warning. Thanks if you did. If you didn't, I'm sorry. Anyway, at some point I rebelled against the secrecy and became probably too blunt about things and have allowed my big mouth to get me in trouble countless times. Fast forward to motherhood and now I'm trying to figure out how to make sure my kids feel comfortable talking about absolutely anything.
The problem with this is that I have boys. They do not seem to have any hang ups about sharing anything bodily related. I may have created monsters.
So yesterday after Rex's 7 year physical, I'm giving him the lecture about this being the only acceptable time to let another person handle his privates and we talk about how some people might seem to be nice, but they might just be nice to take advantage of kids. And I'm trying to use proper terminology and discourage the slang that he has so aptly picked up in public school and the conversation is going swimmingly until I think, "Wait a minute. It's not true. There are other appropriate times for such behaviors..." and before I can put a lid on it I say, "Well, someday it will be appropriate for your wife to touch them."
Why? Why on earth would I say such a thing to a 7-year old? Oh, but it's too late. It's out there and I can't undo it. But the why comes from everything I just explained about how I was raised and do not want my kids to feel that this is a closed conversation and that they are not allowed to ask questions about this stuff. Or that they were not given the right information. (She said no one ever is allowed to touch them--she lied to me!)
So he asks, "Did you have to do that mom?"
"Um, no, I don't have a wife." (Lame, lame, lame! I am in so much trouble now.)
"No, I mean, did you have to touch your husband's privates?"
"Uhhhh....."
It's too late now, I have to be honest.
"Well, yes, but I don't really feel comfortable talking about it right now. Let's talk about something else. What specials do you have at school today?"
And I've done it. I've closed the door and made it clear, "This is not something we talk about." Now I know how it happens. Door closed...and rightly so.
I'm sure if I really thought about it, I could give many examples of conversations gone wild in our house because my reaction to my upbringing is to swing the pendulum to the opposite direction. I have not found the balance and so I pray for grace that can cover over the multitude of parenting mistakes I make.
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