A couple of years ago, I wrote a post about teaching my daughter the “facts of life”. Having gone back and read it again, I’m shocked that I only have another year before I’m supposed to start having open and honest discussions with my daughter about her lady parts and how they pertain to babymaking and S-E-X and all the other stuff that should, ideally, be covered in such conversations.

One year? I can’t even envision my baby, who is, in some ways, pretty sheltered, even being interested such things. Just answering her casual inquiries about why I need tampons practically sends her running from the room in total disgust.

What do YOU remember about learning, or NOT learning the facts of life? You know — puberty, periods, sex and the like. Do you recall what you thought before you really knew what the deal was? And guys? What about you?

I ask because last night I read this really interesting post by Tori about her daughter knowing the in’s and outs of having a period and it brought back all kinds of memories of growing up female.

As I noted in Tori’s comments, my first experience with the curse, the monthly bill or as some call it, our friend, was seeing my much, much older sister changing her maxi pad in the bathroom when I was about 4. I was simultaneously mystified and horrified. She shooed me out of there but later I went back into the bathroom, plucked her pad out of the trash, unwrapped it and just looked at it. If I’d known the expression back then, you can bet I would have been saying “WTF????”

Later, at a large holiday gathering I told everyone at the table about my discovery and even used my grandfather’s hankie as a prop to demonstrate how my sister put on a maxi pad.

Yeah…she never really stopped being pissed about that.

I wouldn’t have any more period shenanigans for quite some time after that and though I recall whispers and mentions of “the period” as I got older. it wasn’t until I read Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret by my beloved Judy Blume, when I was about 9 or 10 that I started to form a vague idea of what it was all about. I became very interested in the gear and would often peek inside people’s cabinets to see if they had any tampons or pads. My mom had the pads so those were no big deal but the tampons intrigued me. You must understand that I still was not clear on the mechanics of the whole thing so I was very curious as to where this big old Q-tip was supposed to go.

Rather fortuitously, around that same time, my mom got me a book that was supposed to take care of everything and edumacate me on the mysterious details of womanhood. But it really didn’t help all that much. I had all the information…you know, like you bleed every 28 days to shed the uterine lining unless you’re pregnant yada yada yada but the diagrams were so scientific; so encyclopedic. It was hard to relate to or even imagine that I had all that weird stuff inside me.

And sex? Oh yeah, I definitely wanted the scoop on sex. Forget it. No mention of the deed whatsoever. The book was strictly focused the assorted lady parts. All I knew about sex or “baby-making” was what I learned from an after- school special, which was also rather vague and as I recall, kind of cartoony. But it wouldn’t be long before information and MIS-information trickled down from older girls.

As I recall, the first real scoop I ever heard about anything sexual was from my friend’s sister. She had befriended Lola, a French exchange student that we were in total awe of and Lola had informed her that when you “suck a boy’s penis” your lips get salty. I was all “Ewwww! Why the hell would anyone want to do THAT???” And really…salty?? Not quite how I’d describe it but I suppose it’s in the ball park of accurate. At the time, though, I imagined my lips encrusted with salt crystals like a pretzel…lol

And I’ll never forget my cursory introduction to concept of homosexuality. Again, the same older sister as before was outside with my friend and I and in the distance, a girl name Jo rode past on the boulevard. Big sister and Jo exchanged some snarky words and then my friend’s sister shouted out what sounded like “You’re a lead!”

As usual, I was clueless.

“Lead?” I asked, “Why is she calling her a lead?”

And my friend broke into gales of laughter. “Not LEAD!!! LEZ!!!”

Me: Lez?
Friend: Yeah, lez.
Me: What’s a lez?
Friend: A girl that likes girls
Me: So?
Friend: A girl that likes girls instead of boys
Me: Ohhhhh.

I tried to play it cool but I was totally confused…

In the next few years, I would learn the more accurate facts about sex but never from a parent. My mom passed away before I ever even got my period (at age 14 I was a late bloomer) and my stepmom did try to have “the talk” with us but my stepsister and I tormented her with the most ridiculous questions and then laughed hysterically.

I plan on teaching my daughter all that puberty stuff as we go along and definitely, I want her to know everything about her period by age nine because girls develop SO early now. We’ve drunk organic milk since I was pregnant with her and we eat mostly organic meats so she’s being deprived of all those synthetic growth hormones. Add to that the fact that I was the last girl of all my friends to “become a woman” and it’s entirely possible that she, too, will be a late bloomer. Hopefully, if that’s the case, she won’t hate it as much as I did.

As for the big sex talk, I guess that sort of goes along with the period talk but God, nine seems awfully young to be discussing such mature things. I do suspect I’m deluding myself, though, and that if I waited any longer, I run the risk of being laughed at and ridiculed like my poor stepmother was.

She’ll be six in a couple months and nine in only three years. I only have three years (or less) to address all of this.

*deep breath*