Arm, Leg, Penis, Vagina

So, the L-man asked about his testicles for the first time yesterday. Specifically, he had just gotten out of the shower and asked (while checking out his discovery), “Mommy, is this the ball of my penis?” He said it kind of like, “Is this the ball for my bat?”

These are the moments where it is very hard to keep a straight face.

I said, yes, many people call them balls, but the technical term is “testicles” and there are two of them.

He looked confused. “Is the other one in here?” He referenced his scrotum. I explained that it was, he found it, looked happy and went about his day.

We try to stick to anatomical terms for body parts. We’re science people and I’m straightforward about sex anyway, but it really freaks some people out. You certainly can’t say the word “vagina” in mixed company.

I do it anyway. I'm crazy like that.

And my kids do because they have no idea it freaks people out. For safety reasons, we do explain what a private part is and why it is private and read them a book we like, but otherwise, we just talk about all body parts in a matter-of-fact way.

Once, Miss M announced, very loudly in a crowd, “Mommy, my vagina has an itch!” That drew some disapproving stares, but whatever. She had a problem and she was just telling her mom. I’m not easily ruffled.

Another time when she was three, she interrupted her yoga teacher and said, “Sometimes my baby brother gets poop all over his penis, but it’s okay, because my mom cleans it off when she changes him.”

The yoga teacher was luckily cool (as most yoga teachers are) and didn’t skip a beat. “Well, that’s very nice of your mom,” she said. “Now, let’s all sway like a tree.”

The brain surgeon and I had to work at coming up with a family policy on nudity. In his family of origin, nakedness was not the norm and they didn’t openly discuss things like puberty, periods and sex.

In my family, everything was open for discussion. Most of my childhood was spent in a single-mom household with just one sister (though I have many siblings) and we were always getting ready together. Nudity didn’t matter at all.

We didn’t want any of our kids to feel weird about being naked and we didn’t want nudity to be a big thing, but we also don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable or inappropriate, and we want to make sure our kids knew what is safe.

We talked and read and read and talked and finally came across some information on the topic that made sense: Let the kids tell you what’s comfortable, because most kids reach a point where they feel uncomfortable having their opposite-gender parent see them naked and also where they don’t want to see their opposite-gender parent naked either (although the timing can be different for these). This is usually later (or not at all) for same gendered parents.

So, we decided just to be laissez-faire about it all and see what happens.

We aren’t nudest types, but we aren’t uptight. In other words, we tend to be naked only as a function of changing clothes or for bathing, but we don’t all run for cover either.

So as the kids grow, when they say, “DAD!” and are embarrassed if they see him changing or when my son freaks out if I walk in the bathroom (or if I freak out – it goes both ways), then that is that.

I also LOVE how our pediatrician handles nudity and the genital exam with our children.

Once they are old enough to have an opinion, he explains that there are very few times when it is okay for an adult to look at or touch a child’s private parts (mom, dad, doctor). He then explains that the parents should be there and say its okay. But, he says, most importantly, the child needs to be okay with it. He asks their permission before any exam, which, when necessary, are brief and appropriate.

We also talk to the kids about keeping secrets with other adults and so on. But mostly, we’re just with our kids. To me, it’s the best way to keep them safe.

Lastly, if you’re feeling down, just shout “vagina!” It will change your mood. I promise.

Toodles!