Body Talk: "BUT HOW DOES THE EGG GET FERTILIZED?!"

My daughter’s dreams finally came true. And no, it is NOT that she gets to be a big sister again. Let's just nip that one in the bud right now before any rumors get started. It's that she is now officially the proud owner of The World’s Creepiest Toy, the Hatchimal. Have you heard of them? If not, you are lucky. In a moment of sheer foolishness, I told her we would buy her one as her reward for successfully completing her sticker chart (instead of the live goldfish she insisted she no longer wanted). I was desperate. The girl went to school for 9 months last year and opted to actually hang her backpack on the hook and put her shoes on the shelf exactly ZERO TIMES of her own accord. Parenting this unmotivated child is going to be the death of me. Which is why I have delegated that task to her father. Good luck, Crozier!

So, I said YES ABSOLUTELY YES when this Hatchimal magical motivator entered the picture. I neglected to Google it first, this is how desperate I was. Never again y’all, never again. Did you know that real, functional, and contributing-to-society human beings pay $60 for this nightmare-inducing noise-maker? SIXTY DOLLARS!!! I about died when I learned what I had committed us to purchasing.

For those of you favored souls who haven’t yet been introduced to the Hatchimal, allow me to tell you a little bit about it. They were created by someone who must have thought to himself, I should turn a stuffed animal into an electronic and add creepy noises and eyes that flash (in what looks like hot anger to me, but actually just signifies the creature has the hiccups - my bad!) and it will be a best seller!” And surprisingly, he was right. The kids love it. The thing is terrifying, particularly in the dark when you see it in the pile of stuffed animals with eggs gleaming hot. So what does this have to do with eggs and fertilization and sex, you ask? Read on! 

Before you get to the enjoyable phase of actually cuddling the Hatchimal (Is it a bird? An owl? A dragon? A bear with wings? I still am unsure…), you first get to witness it hatching. You see, the inventor, though arguably mildly psychotic, was also ingenious. What better business idea than to sell an over-priced stuffed animal in a large plastic egg and make the breaking of the egg “part of the fun” so that, when all is said and done and the thing has hatched and the child loses interest and no longer wants the toy (which happens approximately 3 hours after hatching), horrified parents can’t even return to the beast and find themselves out sixty bucks. Perfect! Not that this was our experience or anything…

Admittedly, the hatching process was rather exciting. The creature has this hard, plastic beak (which makes it all the creepier if it was intended to be a bear…) and, if you keep rubbing and holding the egg, which needs physical touch just as much as the rest of us apparently, it pecks its way out over the course of about 20 suspenseful minutes. My kids have now witnessed the “birth” of two Hatchimal babies and I experienced some mild alarm as I heard them make all sort of proclamations likening the emerging of Hatchimals to the birth of real, live humans. God help us all, have I taught them nothing about their bodies this summer!? The most inflammatory statement came from my seven-year-old who announced to her cousins “Now you know what it is like to have a baby!” Oh child, I have no words.

I didn’t realize just how far backwards we had gone in the sexual education department until the end of the summer when my three-year-old saw a photo of me and his older two sisters and asked if he was there too. I told him that no, he was still “just an egg” in my belly and he looked at me with mild alarm. “I was in your belly!?! Inside an egg?!”

This was not the first time we’d had this conversation but obviously this takes numerous mentions to fully absorb. He took a few moments to process this information before he continued in all seriousness:

“Was I in there playing with all the chickies?”

Mic drop.

Why yes, Son, you all the baby chicks and un-hatched Hatchimals were having a grand old time in my belly. Thanks for asking. In all fairness, this reproduction stuff is rather complicated. Wait, girls have how many holes? What’s a uterus? Girls have hundreds of eggs but they aren’t all babies? The eggs need to be fertilized? What does that mean?

I’m a huge proponent of having one hundred, one-minute conversations about sex and not one, one-hundred-minute talk. We are making our way gradually toward that one hundred number, give or take a few. There is certainly nothing magical about having 100 sex-related talks but rather it’s simply the idea that we need to be having these short, frequent conversations. It feels like we’ve touched on this topic so many times, but in truth, I’m guessing we are only on conversation number 13 or 14. Which explains why our kids still have visions of little chickies dancing around with them in my uterus. Only 87 more conversations to go and I should have them set straight.

After refreshing my son’s memory about how girls have eggs but that they don’t become babies until they are fertilized by the daddy’s sperm, we continued with our lives. It wasn’t until we were in a massive hot tub with about one thousand other people at a waterslide park this summer that he decided to resurrect the conversation. Children always have a knack for selecting the most opportune times to discuss the act of sex. I have no idea how we got on the subject but he began reminiscing about back when he was in my belly. First, he wanted to know about how he made his exit and so I told him that I pushed him out.

This was obviously quite confusing. “You pushed me out!? How?” he asked. I could see the father sitting three feet away from us in the hot tub beginning to eye me.

Carefully, in the most hushed and intentionally-garbled tone I could muster, I whispered “Well, you know how when you have to go poop? Mothers push babies out of their bellies sort of like that.”

Oh perfect, I scolded myself inwardly. Likening the miracle of childbirth to defecation was probably not your strongest explanatory move, Kelsie. But what was done was done.

My son pondered this thoughtfully for a moment before taking the conversation backward 9 months to the egg phase. “So, I was an egg in your belly?” he reminisced. And then, as if it was the most common public hot tub conversation ever, he practically yelled his curiosity:

“BUT HOW DOES THE EGG GET FERTILIZED!?”

If people weren’t looking at me before, they certainly were now. I acted really cool and casual (read: I was DYING) as I surveyed my audience. They seemed to be ready to simultaneously grab their kids and bolt or send their offspring my way and disappear and let me do the hardest part for them. Though it was mildly tempting to educate the entire hot tub in one fell swoop, I restrained myself and through gritted teeth, told my son “This is a conversation we should continue in private” and we evacuated and made a run for our towels.

This little “incident,” one of many, reminded me of my need and desire to resurrect some notes I took from a MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) talk I heard a few years back. The speaker provided a whole list of books that she recommended as a launching point for sex conversations with our kids. We’ve been slowly working our way through a couple of them over the past month and the kids are enthralled. My husband, though totally on board with the idea of educating our kids on sex and their bodies, is slightly less likely than I to volunteer the topic. But he is fully aware that I have peppered our household with all sorts of literature on the subject. He told me while laughing heartily that last weekend he walked in to the room to find our 3 and 6-year-old seated quietly together on the couch, each eagerly “reading” books about their bodies.

How does this sit with you? Where are you at with introducing your kids to the amazing way our bodies work? Maybe you’ve never had a conversation about sex with your kids and they think babies hatch like chicks. Or maybe you are 50 conversations in and your kids know more names for their anatomy than you ever did. Whatever the case, if you are feeling a bit leery about just jumping right in yet really desire to make this a safe topic in your home, perhaps beginning with a book would help. Here are a couple of titles I would recommend for starters to get you going:  

“It’s Not the Stork! A Book About Girls, Boys, Babies, Bodies, Families and Friends” by Robie H. Harris

“It’s So Amazing! A Book About Eggs, Sperm, Birth, Babies, and Families” by Robie H. Harris

If you have other favorites you would recommend, I’m all ears! Happy reading. :) 

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Eggs, Worms, Sex and Pie

Last night we had an exciting dinnertime conversation, exciting in all the ways imaginable.

It all started because we were talking about eggs. My daughter landed the envious role of "Narrator Number 2" in her kindergarten class' upcoming production of Jack and the Beanstalk. Her lines, which she has been rehearsing nightly, set the stage for Jack and the Giant and the hen who lays golden eggs.

We were talking about how magical this would be - to have a hen laying eggs of solid gold. Before I knew it, the conversation had morphed and my five-year-old started out her next sentence with the words "Well, if people laid eggs..."

I saw the opportunity and I seized it.

"Honey, girls do have eggs inside them," I told her. "We don't exactly lay them like hens do, but us girls have eggs in our bodies from the moment we are born."

"I know, Mom," my seven-year-old joined. She isn't one to be left out of the conversation. "There was this one time," she continued, "my friend was telling me how she and her little brother were teasing each other. He told her 'You have eggs inside of you!" and then, to get back at him, she said 'Well you have worms inside of you and that's worse!'"

Graham and I looked at each other, trying our best to hide our grins. Worms, huh? Ha!

Worms? Sperm? Same difference, right? 😉

My kindergartener, of course, found this idea hysterical. I could see her imagination taking the concept to the next level, dreaming up of pictures of little boys running about with squirmy worms coursing through their veins.

"Actually," I corrected, "I think what he was referring to was something called 'sperm' and I'm not sure a boy his age would have that yet."

I couldn't remember for absolute sure so thus commenced a quick bit of scientific "research" (read: I asked Siri to Google it) where I confirmed the fact that boys don't have sperm until they reach puberty. I was pretty sure this was the case but I wanted to feel confident and I was teaching my kids accurately.

None of the conversation was planned but, before I knew it, we were having a full-blown discussion about puberty and the purpose behind the menstrual cycle and what happens physiologically during a period. Then of course they wanted to know why boys have millions of sperm. I spared them no detail and told them that intercourse is for purposes beyond just baby-making so boys need to have tons of sperm so there's enough to go around for those times when parenthood IS actually the goal.

HELLO!!!! (Are you still with me?)

It wasn't our first conversation and it certainly won't be our last. We were on the subject for a grand total of maybe three minutes before the kids moved on and were asking if it was time for pie. Seriously. Eggs, worms, sex, and pie. The topics of our chat flowed together with epic smoothness in their little minds. They were absolutely unashamed, unembarrassed and unfazed and, I have to say, it felt pretty amazing.

A couple things happened during this conversation that I think are important to highlight:

1. Maybe the first one is obvious. WE TALKED WITH OUR THREE, FIVE AND SEVEN-YEAR-OLD ABOUT SEX!! Outloud. Is that even legal?!?? If there is sweat on your brow and you are squirming in your seat, I get it. This definitely would not have been a kosher conversation to be having with kids this age when I was growing up, at least in the community I was raised in. Regardless of our thoughts and upbringings, the topic makes many of us feel reeeeeeeeally uncomfortable. But I know it is incredibly important so I'm speaking up and saying something. The experts today are telling us that what kids need are one hundred, one-minute conversations about sex, not one, one hundred-minute conversation with a side of red, embarrassed faces all around. We need to be interjecting the facts from a very early age, teaching our kids that our bodies are beautifully and wonderfully made, not something to be hushed about, scared of, or embarrassed by. In a best-case scenario, we will be encouraging our kids to ask questions and we will be communicating to them that WE are a safe source for them to come to when they are confused. Frankly, I would rather have my kids coming to ask ME why their sheets are wet when they wake up in the morning or why they feel all tingly when they are around a cute boy than having them find out from another (untrustworthy or potentially inaccurate) source!    

2. We used the real names for all body parts throughout our conversation. We don't do this simply because we are a medical family. Sexual violence prevention experts tell us that using accurate nomenclature for genitalia discourages sexual predators. A predator is much more likely to move on to a more naive-seeming child who refers to his parts as a "wee-wee" or "pee-pee" than one who confidently calls it a "penis." By teaching our kids the proper names for their body parts, we are also helping promote a positive body image and self-confidence. 

3. I admitted when I didn't know the answer. There is no shame in that! But I didn't stop there. I took the next step and looked up the answer to make sure my kids got the information they were looking for (even if my Google searching means of "research" weren't the most scientific). When they come to me with questions with their bodies, I pray my response always begins with "Well honey, I am SO glad you asked me!" I want to keep the lines of communication with them open at all times. I want to be approachable and welcoming of their curiosity, never shaming. And just as importantly, I want them to know we can't possibly know all the things about everything and that's okay. But there are sources out there that do know and we will seek the answers out together. 

How does this topic sit with you? Did it catch you by surprise? Did you come to this space hoping to find inspiration for an upcoming meal only to be shocked by a post about sex and kids? (Trust me, this wasn't a topic I planned on covering today but sometimes the words just fall out). Did you feel totally comfortable reading about sex? Are these conversations you are already having in your home? Do you have some work still to do in this area?

Wherever you are at, chew on these words for a while. Take your pulse and assess any resistance; wrestle with any discomfort. CELEBRATE it if you experience none of these. No matter where you are at, I welcome your thoughts.

I will close with one of my favorite passages from Psalm 139:13-14:

"For You formed my inward parts;
            You wove me in my mother’s womb.
I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
            Wonderful are Your works,
            And my soul knows it very well."

To know that we were designed by God - every part of us - intricately and intentionally. This, my friends, is a beautiful and sacred gift!