This post discusses adult topics and comes with an R rating. Okay. Don't say I didn't warn you.
To paraphrase the Foreigner song, "It was a Monday - a day like any other day..." when WHAMMY! the INCIDENT happened. I don't expect to live to see the apocalypse but I am pretty sure that it will begin on a Monday. For now I will just say 'the incident' involves Middle Daughter finding something of mine that rhymes with "shmaibrator" and that I sometimes call my "Bilbo Baggins (because it's just a little too big to fit in your pocket)." But more on that in a minute.
Image courtesy Dreamstime Stock Photo
Before I get to describing the INCIDENT, let me set the scene for you a bit:
On any given week, like most working moms, I am struggling to balance work, keeping the kids alive, and getting them to their various extracurricular activities and/or doctor/allergist/orthodontist/dentist/eye doctor appointments. I mean, the cat just goes to one place for everything. People are so complicated.
So it was a Monday during one of those 4:00 - 4:30pm time segments between school pick up and getting Middle Daughter to ballet when IT happened. I was trying to confirm that Brother-in-law could watch Oldest Daughter and Youngest Son, make everyone a snack, and pack up my work to do while Middle Daughter danced. Of course Middle Daughter could not find a hair band. No stranger to improvisation, I said 'hey - maybe you could use a bandana or a scarf to tie your hair back.' Oh yeah, I forgot to mention the reason why we had no hair bands - we'd had a couple of months of lice just before this. We'd finally gotten rid of them but I hadn't yet purchased new, lice-free hair bands.
But when I suggested the bandana solution, I wasn't thinking about WHERE she would look for them.
Middle Daughter figured something out for her hair and I ran back into my room to get something before leaving. I noticed my top dresser drawer was open and had been rifled through. Oh-oh, but that's where I keep...a feeling of dread started in the pit of my stomach and spread up to my throat choking me. 'Oh no, I really don't want to deal with this right now,' I thought. I looked into the drawer. Sure enough, Middle Daughter had searched here for a way to tie back her hair. Lying there naked and exposed among the ransacked underwear and handkerchiefs was my vibrator in all its plastic, veiny, fake-penis glory. (I have no idea why it has veins. I mean, they don't really need to be there...in fact this particular vibrator creeps me out a bit because it looks a little too much like a dismembered member.)
I am not a prude about sexuality. I've always thought that along with teaching my kids about where babies come from and how their bodies work I would include some conversation about sex as pleasurable. I know many people would prefer to ignore the fact that their kids probably know way more about sex and sexuality than they assume. I wanted my kids to get the information from me, not from reading some dusty old Penthouse magazines at a sleepover, talking to their friends who may be misinformed, watching Porky's, or covertly reading their Mom's stash of Harlequin novels (sources of knowledge for me, sad to say).
That said, just like no one in their right mind enjoys the dentist, I don't really want to think about other people's sexuality or talk about it with anyone, let alone my kids. But I also don't want to pathologize sexuality for my kids. I want them to have a healthy, shame-free, relationship with their bodies in all ways.
I am careful not to be critical (out loud) about what I perceive as flaws in my appearance or dwell on the appearance of others. I also believe that knowledge is power and in order to help prevent the very real danger of sexual assault we've always sent clear messages about what parts of their body are private and what the boundaries are for physical touch and that they are in charge of deciding where those boundaries lie. This is why I won't force my kids to hug or kiss friends or family. We need to show them we respect what happens to their physical being. And of course there's the whole pregnancy/STD prevention conversation. But surely that conversation doesn't have to happen on a frickin' Monday when we're going to be late for ballet, does it?!
Like a lot of things in life, Crucial Parenting Moments happen when you least expect them. I called Middle Daughter back into my room. "Hey, were you looking in this drawer?" "Yes." "Okay, did you find something in there?" "Yeah, what IS that thing?" I panicked for 15 seconds and then sighed. "Let's get in the car and I'll explain it on the way to ballet."
Buying yourself some time when one of these Crucial Moments comes up is a key skill you need to develop in order to keep your shit together. In the five minutes of freaking out between realizing what had happened and getting in the car, I came up with a strategy. Now, your strategy in this kind of situation is context-dependent. In other words, you need to use what works with the kid in question. Knowing Middle Daughter and knowing how she thinks was important in turning this curveball into a home run. We'd already had the basic conversation about 'where babies come from' and 'how babies are made' so that helped.
Middle Daughter, if I haven't mentioned it already, is pretty bright. On the way to the car, I remembered a walk two years earlier when she was 8 and she essentially figured out birth control and abortion without me explaining those things. That prompted a longer conversation about the basics of pregnancy, sex, and women's reproductive rights. "Well, the baby is in the woman's body, so I think she should get to decide whether to keep it or not." Yes, I swear my 8 year-old said this and I had no influence over this opinion.
I've found that with my kids straightforward facts spoken in an authoritative tone is the best way to convey difficult information. I may be freaking out on the inside and not really know what they will say next, but they don't know that. They are looking to me, depending on me to help them understand this at their level. That leads me to my next piece of advice - give them only the basic information they need and explain the issue at a level they can understand. You DO NOT need to volunteer information they haven't asked for.
Thankfully, none of the conversations about sex/sexuality I've had with my kids has prompted questions I've been unable or unwilling to answer. Answer their question with basic information and a minimum level of explanation. Also, do not act uncomfortable. Just like when they were toddlers and if you didn't react to them falling down, they wouldn't cry, if you don't freak out or act scared they won't either and the whole conversation will pass by with a minimum of stress.
Okay self, I thought, when getting in the car with Middle Daughter that Monday afternoon, you have a decision to make. You could ignore this issue or you could make the most of it. Run and hide or turn it into a teachable moment. I hate that saying but it accurately describes the opportunity you have at one of these points. So I decided to explain the vibrator by first explaining masturbation. Here's a basic summary of our conversation:
Tanya: "So, do you ever touch yourself and it feels good?"
MD: "Yeah, sometimes."
Tanya: "Well when you touch your own private parts and it feels good that's called 'masturbation' and everyone does it."
MD: "Oh."
Tanya: "And that's fine - you might want to do that in your own room and not at school, of course. Also, no one else should be touching you there, right?"
MD: "Right."
Tanya: "Well sometimes people like to use special tools or toys to help them. That thing you found in my drawer is something that ladies use to help them masturbate. It's just for grown ups."
MD: "Oh, okay. Well I wondered what that was."
And that was it. The world did not end. I don't think Middle Daughter is scarred for life. Thankfully, she didn't ask me to explain anything further. Hopefully the message she got was: 1) sex is pleasurable 2) you can take care of your own needs and it's perfectly normal and 3) it's something that is private but not shameful.
Here's the summary of the steps I used to make the most of this accidental discovery:
1. Buy yourself some time. Take five minutes to calm down and figure out your next move.
2. Think about the kid in question. Review what they already know and what you know about their thought process.
3. Talk to the kid alone with minimal distractions. I've found the car works well. For some reason, not looking at them helps to control my emotional response and the level of discomfort I'm expressing.
4. When explaining, keep it simple and straightforward. Do NOT add more than you need to. Let them ask questions and reassure them that anything they ask is a normal and valid question. That said, if they say something disturbing, handle it appropriately of course.
5. Finally, keep the channel of communication open. Let them know they can bring any questions or concerns to you. It's also okay to set limits on the information. I often explain to my children that they should talk to me or their dad about these things and not their peers (or younger siblings) who may or may not be ready for this.
