The Talk On Mother’s Day it finally happened, my 7-year-old daughter and I had ‘the talk’. Mind you it was a scaled down, age-appropriate version of ‘the talk’ but that didn’t make a difference to me. It was still new territory and even with the scaled-down version I had trouble getting the words out.

“Do you get a baby just because you hope for one?” my daughter asked. I thought of a girlfriend who had tried for years, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant and answered, “no, honey, it involves more than that”. For such a simple question there was so much to explain. I didn’t say any more but stopped there, wondering just how much information I should share. I decided that it would be best to let her prompt me if she wanted to talk about it more.

Through the rear view mirror I could see that she was concentrating on a thought and assumed she was either thinking about my answer or coming up with more questions. Then she smiled, her eyes sparkling, and I sensed another question was heading my way. I had the feeling this one was going to be more difficult than the first.

“Does getting a baby have to do with “the sexy”? she asked, now beaming with a devilish grin. This wasn’t just a question it was a whopper.

I was glad I was driving so she couldn’t see my eyes grow big. ‘The what?’ I wanted to say it out loud but was afraid I’d embarrass her. I’d never heard the phrase “the sexy” before and wondered if maybe that’s what they called it now. I thought back to a conversation we had shared about a boy in daycare who had referred to one of the older girls as “sexy” and how I had told her that it wasn’t appropriate for him to have said that. She could have heard the word “sex” somewhere and had gotten the two words confused. After all, “sex” is close to “sexy”, sometimes even in real life. I had no idea where “the” came from.

I was lost in thought over what else she might have heard at daycare when I heard her repeat the question. “Does it involve the sexy?”

I didn’t know what to address first - her phrase “the sexy” or the question, itself. I decided to ignore the phrase for now. I simply answered “yes, honey, it does.” There, I’d said it.
“Oh!” she gushed. I had just confirmed her suspicion. She continued with other questions, like “do only grownups do the sexy?”, and “have you and daddy done the sexy?, and “does it involve getting naked?”

This can’t be happening, I thought. Wasn’t “the talk” something mom’s gave their pre-teens? I thought that I’d have at least five more years to prepare for it. I mean, I can barely explain digestion let alone “the sexy”. But just as strong as my desire to change the subject was my realization that this was an opportunity to open a dialogue about sex, myself, before she learned about it from her friends or a school health teacher. It was also a chance to demonstrate to my daughter that she could talk to me about anything. ANYTHING. This was an important moment, indeed.

I took a deep breath, reminded myself that honesty is the best policy and answered her questions without pausing, in case I lost my nerve. “Yes, mommy and daddy have done the sexy…It is only for grownups...It involves getting naked.” When I finished talking I could see that she was thinking about what I had said. After a few minutes, to my surprise, she commented “that’s why you have to be married to have a baby, because the mommy and daddy see each other’s nakedness” (actually nakedudity, as we call in our house). Good, I thought, she connected the whole thing with marriage. Whew!

Then she counted up the number of children in our family and said, “that means you and daddy had the sexy two times and Rachael’s mom and dad had it three times.” Rachael is her best friend whose mom just had a baby. “Yes, honey, that’s true”, I answered, smiling at her comment; two times - if she only knew!

That was the end of her questions and I was relieved there weren’t more. I felt like I did when I had just finished jogging a short distance after not exercising for a while: This had been a good first run but I was glad it was over. I didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts but decided I should close the topic for now, telling her there was more I wanted to talk to her about, but not today, and that we’d continue the conversation another time. I added that I’d always be there to answer her questions. “Ok, thanks mommy”, she said, sounding happy with that.

I don’t know what I had been picturing but it certainly wasn’t having “the talk” with a 7-year-old girl, but I admit I was pleased with how it went. I was also amazed at my daughter’s openness and that she felt comfortable enough to ask me these things at all. At seven I was too timid to ask even simple questions and here she was courageously asking the big ones.

You come to motherhood carrying both the good memories and the scars from your own childhood. You’re determined to do some things the same and some things differently – without knowing what ‘differently’ really entails. For me, ‘differently’ meant creating an environment where my daughters would have the confidence to speak their minds on matters big or small and to ask questions - about anything. After “the talk” ended and as I finished the drive home, it dawned on me that somehow I actually had accomplished that and I couldn’t help but feel proud - of my daughter and myself.

When I got to work on the Monday after Mother’s Day a co-worker asked me how my Mother’s Day was. I thought back to “the talk” and my daughter’s courageous questions and answered, “it was amazing.”

Just like motherhood.