Obviously, Bitch isn’t squeamish about sex talk. I grew up in a pretty open home and my friends’ parents were similarly open. This was a good thing, at least in my family, since contrary to some ways of thinking, we didn’t run out and have sex willy nilly. We were given “the talk” at 12 when, at the time, we were much more concerned about ramming around the playground trying to play with the boys. “Sex? With boys? Eeeeeeeeeeuuuuwww.”

So, I’ve been having various kinds of sex discussions with the Sonshine ever since he was old enough to ask, “Where do babies come from?”

While I’d always had an open door policy, he still liked his privacy and only told me about his first time having sex after the fact, a little later that evening as, apparently, it was an little ‘afternoon delight.’

I don’t even know how to describe the thoughts that went through my mind then.

Firstly, four members of Testosterone Central were hanging out in the living room, chatting me up as I took a break from work. Earlier, they’d been in Sonshine’s bedroom with the door closed. They came barrelling out, giggling. OK. Not all that unusual. So, they were talking about their typical boy things or asking me about work. I probably should have noticed the looks going back and forth between them. But, I didn’t.

All of a sudden, one of the boys, Akim, says, “Sonshine’s mom! Sonshine’s mom!” (that’s what they called me. That, or ma or mama.) “Did you know what Sonshine did today?”

Bitch: “Nope. What’d he do?” (I was a little panicky that he might have done something heinous, like skip school!)

Akim: “He had sex!” Chortles of laughter from Akim, Alonso, and Nicky. Nicky, younger, fell on the floor, holding his tummy, laughing like a hyena saying, “Oh my god, I can’t believe it. Sonshine had sex!”

Bitch: “Right. Sure.” And as soon as I said it, it dawned on me, they weren’t pulling a stunt, which they’re known to do.

So, Sonshine told me and, naturally, I said, “Where?” “When?” I knew with whom, since his then girlfriend frequently came over and even made sure to keep me company when Sonshine visited his dad. She’d hang with me and we’d watch movies and share a box of tissues over the chick flix. She’s one of the girls I call my “Other Daughter” and she always will be. That’s just the way my family is. You become part of our family, through any means, and you’re stuck there as if you’re were biologically born into it. We like to share our dysfunctions like that.

Then I thought, “Damn, how do I ask him if he made sure to concern himself with her needs? Does he know what and where a clitoris is? What about after sex? Cuddling? Roll over? What?”

I finally did ask those things because I consider part of sex education not just the mechanics of sex and how to avoid sexually transmitted diseases. I consider sex something that is, ideally, bound up with respect, love, friendship — so those things need to be addressed, too. How you treat other people with regard to sex is important, yes? (I have had many a conversation with Testerone Central about the double-standards they often harbored in that regard!)

So, tonight Sonshine’s certain he has an STD. He has some kind of bump on his penis that he says he’s had for years. So, we’re talking about his sexual history, pretty slim and long-term relationship-type sex. That’s what you learn in Bitchland which is why my other nickname is LTR-K.

He said that he’s had the bump before he ever had sex, but n ow he and his gf are obsessing about every little health problem since she’s going through a few of her own. I reassured both of them that what she’s going through is quite common and rattled off friend after friend, sisters, cousins, etc. who’ve all been there, done that. From what Sonshine described, he doesn’t have an STD and I tried to reassure him.

Now, he’s a kid who will tell everyone, “Ask my mom, she knows everything.” (I know, I know. I don’t know what happened?!) Still, his confidence in my knowledge level was not high. Nothing I said mattered. He was in major obsessive mode. (Wonder where he got that from? moi? :)

I kept telling him that it was unlikely that he had anything serious, showing him pictures from Medline, grilling him about pain while urinating, with R explaining *why* men have such pain, and generally filling him in on all the great stuff you learn in the Navy.

But, nothing would console Sonshine’s inner hypochrondriac. We’re talking about HIV and he keeps obsessing about a time when he was thirteen, wrestling with Akim and Nicky. Akim started bleeding and *hmmmm* somehow Sonshine got blood on his penis. I didn’t probe that one too deeply, but I’m guessing there was more to it than that. Boys (and girls) will play.

So, I’m saying, “It’s highly unlikely since Akim isn’t an intervenous drug user. Akim doesn’t have HIV/AIDS, etc. Was he sexually active then?”

Sonshine’s inner hypochrondiac keeps obsessing and I keep saying, “OK, obviously, you need to get tested to see what is up. It sounds like something other than an STD, but we should get you checked out.”

He’s still obsessing, starting to cry, leaning over to rest his head on my shoulder for a hug.

After some hugs, he felt better. But the inner hypochrondriac and that fear of death that comes so easily to teenagers reared its head.

All of a sudden, I catch myself asking impatiently (because his inner hypochrondriac is rubbing off), “Well, show it to me so I can know what it looks like and do a better Google search!”

After blurting *that* out I glanced at him sidewise as he grinned a little grin at what a goof mom is.

“Guess that isn’t the best idea, huh?”

And we all laughed.

I guess your 18 year old isn’t supposed to whip it out as if you’re a medical practitioner. It’s not the same thing as showing mom a bump on any other part of your body.

But it’s good, you know, to have that kind of relationship with your kid. It’s good that he hasn’t so absorbed the macho masculinity that he otherwise seems to enjoy so much that he doesn’t spontaneously hug mom when he needs a hug.

But, dang, my inner researcher wants to know what the hell this bump actually looks like and in my head I’m thinking, “Well, maybe he can photograph it for me!” You have to understand that, when it comes to anything medical, Bitch wants to know anything and everything about it. Thank dog for the Internets ™!

We always talk about how important it is to teach kids about sex at home. We shouldn’t rely on the schools to do so. But, you know, it isn’t the easiest converstation to have is it?

Who has conversations with their heterosexual boys about the clitoris. If you have a queer daughter, do you talk about the clitoris? Do you talk about anything in particular detail?

Do you even talk about STDs or do you figure the school will take care of it? What about emotions and sexuality? What about committment, love, respect, friendship?

It’s all pretty complicated, isn’t it?

We want our kids to grow up as we want ourselves to be, whatever aspire to. If we value hard work, we like to teach them to value that. If we value reading and scholarship, we help them learn to aspire to that.

If we pride ourselves on being a good, considerate, well-informed lover….. We don’t even have a language to talk with each other about that sort of thing (in relation to each other, as adults), let alone talking with our kids about it.

I guess the best thing you can do is teach them to be good, considerate, well-informed people and let it roll from there. Except that, the problem is that we’re talking about a US culture where the one doesn’t flow from the other necessarily.

Thoughts?