People...THIS is why I talk to my kids about sex. THIS is why I didn't run screaming in horror when my then 12 year old son asked me if you could get pregnant from anal sex. THIS is why, when the time comes, I will provide him with as many condoms as he needs, though inside I may be riven with sadness the thought of my baby having sex.
THIS is why I have to do better than my parents did. They were wonderful, my parents. But when it came to sex, their way of dealing with it was to not deal with it.
I think the only reason I didn't get knocked up is because I waited until I was quite old by today's standards to surrender my womanly gift (said with tongue firmly planted in cheek) and as a result, had enough common sense to get myself down to Planned Parenthood and get on the pill.
I was nearly 18 and a senior in high school. It was a rather business like endeavor. I had decided that it was time to get it over and done with. So I selected a likely candidate, and pretended to be seduced.
It was a disappointing and somewhat empty experience, naturally.
So I've talked to my boys about that. That it can be a wonderful thing, but also a sad and confusing and embarassing thing.
As a young adult I had encounters that filled me with shame and regret. I coped by resolving firmly to put it behind me and not repeat the mistake.
But LOOK at this child. Dear God, he's just a baby.
How in the WORLD is he supposed to cope with all the emotions that are tied up with sexuality?
How in the WORLD is he supposed to cope with the responsibility that has just been placed, clad in pink and smelling sweetly of milk and powder, in his chubby arms?
It's unthinkable, really.
And yet, There it is
What in the world will become of them? I shudder to think.