S-E-X Is a Test When I’m Pressed
Chris and I were talking the other night about our parents as grandparents. I mentioned that I thought mine have done a pretty good job of not “parenting me through parenthood.” My in-laws haven’t caused trouble either, but, to be honest, I expected my parents to have a harder time.
I’m sure my mom has wanted to jump in. She’s told me more than once that it’s time to start carrying a wooden spoon so I can “tear that baby’s hiney up” any time I want. And just last weekend I coaxed a little criticism out of her over lunch at La Madeline, where Caelyn helped herself to individual servings of Land O’ Lakes sans bread. My dad thought this was brilliant: “Would you like a little more butter, Caelyn? Katy, go get her another one!” My mom couldn’t keep the disgusted look off her face. I couldn’t help but comment, “Caelyn, your Grammi Roo’s makin’ that face because there’s no way she’d have let your mommy do what you’re doing.”
Mom straightened up in her chair, “You got that right! But I’m not the one who will have to deal with the consequences.”
True, but I figure 2 tablespoons of butter now and then can’t do any more harm than the daily ding-dongs that showed up in my lunch.
Anyway, the butter incident is actually what sparked the parents as grandparents talk. Truthfully, while I did expect restraint to be difficult for my mom, I still anticipated it because I knew that my dad would be hard-pressed to let her offer more than casual advice: “Ruth, you’ve got to let them make their own mistakes and learn from them.” And my mom would be hard-pressed to not do whatever my dad said.
(This was not my dad’s stance while I was growing up. His policy states that prevention, protection, and intervention are always the right option until a child reaches 21. At that point, if said child is benefitting from your money via higher education, you retain the right to lay down the law on the things that destroy a person’s life, the greatest of which would be smoking.)
So, even though I haven’t done a lot of things they way they would, they’ve done a good job of not letting it get to them. I’m afraid, though, that the time will come when I’ll cross a line and my mom, fearing the spiritual demise of her grandbaby, will have to say something.
I love my parents. I’m glad for their example, and I welcome their counsel and prayers. But (I’ve mentioned before) that we are very different people; we have different parenting styles too. And, while we mainly have the same values, we disagree on a few big issues. So, naturally, I plan on approaching some things differently than they did. If there really is a “line,” I figure it’ll be crossed when we get to those issues. And I figure two of the biggest stink-raisers will be sex (which I’ve written about here) and rock n’ roll (which I’ve written about here and here).
Something’s probably not right if there’s not a little awkwardness between kids and their parents when it comes to sex, relationships, and changing bodies. I’ve got no disillusions that it won’t be awkward for Caelyn and me too. I’m not even sure how I’m going to establish and maintain honest, open communication about those issues.
But I will be honest and open. That’s not how it was in my house.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that my parents weren’t honest. Their motives were pure, and they made efforts when other parents didn’t. Still, we just didn’t talk about sex and dating very much. My mom read Where Did I Come From? with me when I was 4.
They didn’t mention sex again until they took me out to lunch, gave me a ring, and told me that God wanted me to save myself for the man he had created for me, if, that is, he had created one for me. Around the same time, they covered sexuality and changing bodies all at once via a copy of James Dobson’s Preparing for Adolescence left on my bed with instructions for me to read it carefully.
“Woman’s Day” brought a, “You know what to do, right?” (a low-key response for which I was grateful).
Bras and deodorant commenced with an “it’s about time for,” make-up and leg shaving with my outright (and high-time) rebellion. The rest was left up to Sex Ed., church speakers, video sermon series, and that paperback copy of My Girl, which I read 3 times before my mom threw it in the dumpster.
When it came to boys, I only got a few things from the parental camp:
1. I shouldn’t mess with them.
2. If I had to, they had better be Quiet-Time-having, Christian young men.
3. Upon acquiring such an upstanding fella, I shouldn’t cross Step 4 of The Twelve Steps of Bonding, as quoted in that Dobson book.
4. Two-piece bathing suits, even a full-coverage tanki, were certain to usher in promiscuity.
5. Dresses showing any amount of back would make boys think things I wouldn’t even want to know about.
I’m not saying those were bad things, but, well . . . . I didn’t mention a guy to my parents until I met one my freshman year in college whom I felt very strongly about and got involved seriously enough with to warrant
the conversation. Even then my mom assumed I didn’t do more than hold his hand.
And she was still appalled when I not only came home with a binki, but one of those all-important undercover fashion agents that fights the dirty battle of VPL!
I didn’t know anything about my parents’ lives before they met each other (except for childhood stories) or even that much about the years they dated, except that they weren’t Christians, but they were still good kids. I’m glad I never had to worry about whether or not my parents loved each other, but for all I knew, no member of the opposite sex even remotely sparked their interests until they met each other. The past was dead. My mom said so all the time. She even gave her past a nickname: “The Old Man.”
And we haven’t even touched on gender, authority, etc., which are worth talking about, but I won’t for time’s sake.
Certainly, our views on sexuality, womanhood, manhood, relationships, and parental approaches to the four aren’t exactly the same. But I think our differences also have something to do with how we see the world and the relationships therein.
Mom and I were talking not long ago about Caelyn’s strong-will. She said it must come from Chris, because I wasn’t a defiant little kid. I pointed out that Chris, in high school, was pretty much the mildest teenager ever — he never drank, smoked, or uttered a cuss word. He went voluntarily to Bible study at 6 a.m. on Saturdays, had no interest in school dances, never dated a girl longer than it took him to decide he didn’t want to marry her, never kissed a girl for the mere sake of kissing her, always told the truth, never snuck out, read his Bible daily, only listened to Christian music by his own conviction, and stood up for his principles even when his friends didn’t. In short, he was everything my mom ever dreamed of.
Mom’s response? “That’s how all Christian teenagers are.”
I’m not going to get into whether or not I think a Christian should do any or all of those things, but I will say that not all Christian teenagers are like that. For goodness sake, if you replace the word “girl” with “guy” and switched a few pronouns, I can’t even say that I didn’t do the opposite of almost all those things, sometimes on a regular basis!
Mom also recently told me that my 13-year-old cousin “has a boyfriend!” (a boy she texts/watches movies with under the supervision of their parents). When I suggested that wasn’t abnormal for a teenager, she replied, “Her interest in boys is unhealthy! She’s been interested since she was 11!” I’m not claiming the sexual landscape of American youth hasn’t changed in the last 18 years (because it has), but I recall boys being a big deal to girls at least by the 5th grade, even if they grossed us out a little.
You’ll never guess what she pointed to as the cause of this heightened sexuality. Secular music!
My cousin’s iPod consists of mainly of Miley Cyrus and Hillary Duff. But pointing out the mildness of the lyrics wouldn’t get me anywhere, because it’s ultimately the beat that takes over the mind/body and, apparently, leads to an unhealthy obsession with the opposite sex, which leads to boyfriends, which leads to kissing, which leads to sex, which leads to ruined lives. Even if one manages to sidestep the sexual ruination, rest assured. The music will do the wrecking on its own. At least that was the warning I got when I got into (secular) music post high-school graduation.
I’m not making any detailed parenting plans here. I’m not even denying my part in the gaps of my formal sexual/romantic/relational/social education. After all, when my sister was in college she called my dad in the middle of the night to talk to him about her boy troubles all the time, while I sat in the other room thinking she was crazy for even thinking about doing such a thing. And I didn’t bother to put a sheet over my wall of CDs whenever my parents came to visit me in college. (I don’t do that now either. I have an iPod. With a case.)
But I am saying that I hope I don’t forget the immature sexual tension of the 5th grade playground or how it felt the first time I knew I loved a man (and everything in between). I hope Caelyn and I manage to push through the awkwardness and get sexuality and what manhood/womanhood really means on the table in more than book form. I hope she talks to me about that class clown who steals her heart in 8th Grade Science. And I hope I respond with the right mix of seriousness and levity. I hope we talk about sex in a real, tangible way with an appropriate level of honesty, whether she’s having it or not. I hope I remember to talk about heartbreak and love authentically and personally, both from my side and hers.
And, well, let’s just say that this mama puts on the hip-hop and shakes it with her toddler at least once a week. I’m just crossing my fingers she likes good music!
But none of that information is new. We’ve talked about sex, music, and parenting before. The only new point I’m making here is that it won’t be long before Caelyn starts singing something besides “Jesus Loves Me” in front of her grandparents and asking to call her boyfriend from their house. Whenever that happens, I might be in big trouble.
I better start working on that part of the (non-existent) Master Parenting Plan now. Or at least after I finish this Otis Redding album.
15 comments
It’s strange to me that your mom’s hangin’ in there w/secular music as the root of it all, considering all the visual stimuli our society offers us.
By the way, Miley thanked her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, as she accepted her Nickelodeon Kid’s Choice Award. Or, at least, that’s what my little sister told me.
So, how does Christian pop/rock fit into your mother’s view of “the beat”? I’m sure you’ve written about it before, but I don’t remember.
Also, would you ever reveal to your parents now the things you did back then that you know they wouldn’t have approved of? I find that that’s almost impossible for me to do, adulthood notwithstanding.
You got more than I did from my parents! Thankfully Michele was around to teach me things like how to shave my legs. And if it weren’t for dance team friends, who knows when I would have discovered tampons. (was that too personal for the www? eh, oh well)
And I’m with you Lex… Plenty of things I have never told my parents from stuff I did during and post college. Sometimes I’ve thought about it or even wanted to, knowing we could have a rational adult conversation about it. But I think what stops me is that I don’t want them to feel like they “screwed up” because I ended up doing this or that, because I guess I turned out ok. (hopefully, I’m not dead or pregnant and was never arrested, counts for something right?) Sounds silly, the child is now the one trying to protect the parents!
If I ever have children, I would like to have a more open relationship with them. I think it’s generational. I can definitely see that I am closer, discuss more, and have a more “friendly” relationship with my parents than they do with their parents and seems to be that way with my cousins/aunts/uncles, too.
Oh and my dad thinks James Dobson is practically the anti-christ, so I DEF got none of his literature. To this day there has been no “sex talk.”
lex — It’s strange to me too, though there’s lots of visual stimuli she doesn’t approve of either. But she’s more lenient w/that stuff. (Way more now than when I was a kid.) She prefers Christian books, movies, and shows and thinks you should choose them whenever possible. But there’s not a blanket judgement like there is on secular music. I think she believes we’re better able to filter through sexual content in visual stuff than in music. When I lived at home, she kept a tight reign on what I read, but now, even if she’d rather not read it, she can condone a secular book w/a certain level of profanity it (like Catcher in the Rye) as art. Music seems to be a bigger threat, like listening to it is a surrender of mental control so Christians can’t trust themselves w/it.
The title of this post is a line from DC Talk’s “I Don’t Want It (Your Sex for Now).” I can’t tell you how extreme my mom’s reaction was the first time she heard DC Talk. She wasn’t just offended; she was afraid. And, when I lived at home, she threw away plenty of Christian rock/pop albums. We’d go round and round about the lyrics, but it would always come back to “the beat.” She’d take her argument all the way to Lucifer’s musical role in heaven. But things have changed. She actually consults me on Christian rock music that could replace the secular favs of some of the kids she works with. (I never know what to recommend.) There’s an age limit, though. 6th graders should be listening to Psalty, not Christian rock. And “the beat’s” not totally in the clear, even in the Christian world.
I’m telling you, though. I could break her w/a Beach Boys mix.
I know you got into music via your parents’ records, but was anything off limits (music wise) in your house?
As for revealing stuff, that’s definitely really hard for me too, adulthood notwithstanding. There’s not a lot I’d lie about if asked outright, but there are a few things I’d find a way around even then, and there’s lots I wouldn’t bring up. It’s funny; I was more gutsy when I was younger, like when my dad told me he wanted me to be in the dorm by midnight and I told him if he wanted me to have a curfew, he shouldn’t have sent me to college out of state. (Maybe I was just brash and cocky.) Now days, it depends on the “offense,” and if it would still cause a fight or hurt/disappoint them. I wouldn’t have trouble admitting I kissed my boyfriends (w/o going into detail) or skipped a lot of class, but I wouldn’t reveal things that would still upset/worry them. That’s true even for stuff that’s not a traditional “big deal.” Like my dad DESPISES smoking (he told me he’d cut me off if he even heard a rumor about me smoking), and I recently asked him if he ever smoked a cigar in college w/his frat buddies. He was offended that I even asked! I’m not hiding a cigarette addiction or anything, but I wouldn’t mess w/that kind of passion.
I have thought, though, that revelation might have to happen if I want to defend my parenting choices.
So, your little sister was watching the Kid’s Choice Awards, eh?
Jules — JSmo was in college for most of my tween/teen years, but she did come to bat for me pretty often. My mom tried to talk to me about sex/OBGYNS/birth control shortly before I got married and was surprised that I knew all about them, even though I had a married sister! (But I knew about them long before JSmo got married.) No one taught me how to shave my legs, though. I begged my mom to let me shave them, but she wouldn’t budge. I even tried to bleach them! One time when we were at her mom’s house, I walked out with a razor and told her I was going to do it. I figured she wouldn’t argue in front of my grandmom and she didn’t! I didn’t ask about arm pits. I just did it. As for tampons, ah, FtR has entire posts dedicated to the bathroom! My mom was adamantly opposed to them. I bought them anyway with my own money, but I don’t think I told her about it.
Interesting point about not wanting your parents to feel like they screwed up. It’s interesting to see how parent-child relationships change as the kid stops being a kid and becomes an adult. There’s a lot of renegotiating and shifting that happens gradually over many years, I think.
Good point on the generational differences. You’re right — I’m lucky my parents even mentioned the S word! And it does seem like parents and kids get more open with each other with each generation. I think that’s a reflection of shifts in parenting styles/ideas, but it probably also has something to do with the changes in the way kids view themselves. There are some big pros and some serious cons to those changes; in my opinion, more authentic relationships are a big pro.
I think Preparing for Adolescence is still on the bookshelf in my old room. I could snag if for you next time I’m in OK, if you feel like you need a sex talk!
Yeah, yeah, sis loves the KCAs!
My parents never let me listen to stuff w/those explicit lyric stickers on them, but that was it. Once I had a Denis Leary CD, and it had that song “A**hole” on it, and my mom found it and I got in trouble. I think that’s the only time I was reprimanded for my CDs.
Thanks for the offer on the book… though I think I’m good. Everything I needed to know about sex I learned at HSU… Kidding, it was really from MTV! :)
You know, among the many health myths that Grandmom firmly believes is “we all need fat to lubricate our arteries”. You can tell Mom that next time she gives you the eye for letting Caelyn eat butter.
It’s funny that you mentioned “Where Did I Come From?” in this post. I was just talking about it at work today. We have a book about adoption from the same author that looks exactly like “WDICF?” on the spine. Whenever I see it sitting on the shelf, I think it’s our old favorite classic. I told my secretaries how Mom read it with me and then gave it to me for my own collection at age 4, when you were on the way. You know how the story goes…I then proceded to offer sex-education classes to all of the children in the neighborhood. I was bound to become a therapist! BTW, this classic is also on display at the Play Therapy Conference resource collection at UNT every year. It’s still a good book (although not nearly as funny as “A Very Touching Book”).
I can’t believe that you never had the formal talk. I guess they figured I’d tell you everything that they (Mom) told me. I probably traumatized her when she sat me down for the talk and I responded with, “Gosh, Mom, I already KNOW all of that!” As she continued to give different details, I said, “I told you, I KNOW all of that!” She didn’t account for the fact that she had given me a copy of “Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret” by Judy Blume, and I read it over and over, cover to cover, as if I had a secret treasure. I actually hid it from her when I wasn’t reading it, just in case she ever figured out what it was about and attempted to throw it in the dumpster (like MG). And she didn’t think about Shannon, who was 2 years my senior, being my best friend prior to moving (Mom would’ve been appalled if she knew that after Shannon went to sex-ed in 5th grade, she brought home the box of pads, tampons, and brochures and went over everything with me). It also didn’t help your case that I had a fit and threw the bra behind the couch when Mom tried to offer me one for the first time. I was a case of not wanting anything to change, much like Jo in “Little Women”, yet I was secretly fascinated with the whole idea of development (also doomed to be a therapist). Oddly enough, considering my stance now, I was so embaressed about the subject that I sat in the almost empty cafeteria on sex-ed day in the 8th grade because I was absent the day that they sent home permission slips to attend and I was too embaressed to ask my teacher for one; I wouldn’t have had the guts to ask Mom to sign it anyway!
I’m not sure why she didn’t offer me any pre-marriage advice. I suppose my degree in psychology and the fact that I was taking a course entitled “Advanced Sex Therapy and Sexual Dysfunction” intimidated her a little. I actually could’ve taught her a thing or two at that point, but we won’t get into that! :0)
Remember Mom’s reaction to “Jesus Freak” when Jon played it at our house? Oh, I felt so sorry for him! She’s come a LONG way from tossing Rich and Amy!
All in all, though, they did an excellent job. We both turned out pretty good! I’m sure they know that there will be some things that we’ll do differently, but I sure don’t plan on telling them anytime soon! (We’ll leave that to Kevin if the time ever comes, or blame it on him anyway!!! After all, he is the favorite child!)
lex — “A**hole!” Nice! How old were you?
You’re such a good big brother.
Jules — Good job tying it all together with the thing about MTV teaching you everything you needed to know about sex!
JSmo — Well, lubrication is an important part of any functioning organism and/or machine.
You know, I gathered quite a crowd of neighborhood kids with WDICF too. There was probably a parents’ newsletter circling the hood with this message: “Worried about having ‘The Talk’ with your kids? Just send ‘em to the Wegs. They’ll throw in the truth about Santa Claus absolutely free!”
I think the 4-year-old reading of WDICF and the presentation of the purity ring were supposed to be “the formal talk.” I’m sure your response to their efforts kept it toned down though! And doesn’t that first bra story keep going with me popping up from behind the couch and saying, “I’ll wear it!”? Jo March would’ve gladly let Amy have it! (But, on most fronts, I think I’m more Jo and you’re more Amy with a little Meg mixed in.)
I didn’t know that you didn’t go to Sex Ed.! And, yes, it’s certainly odd that you would’ve been embarrassed to ask Mom to sign the permission slip. Goodness knows, you’re not embarrassed to ask her anything now! Or give her any piece of advice: “Well, maybe if you didn’t wear that Pepto-Bismol polar fleece thing . . . .”
Mom didn’t actually give me any traditional “wedding night” advice. She was just trying to push me into going to the doctor with a pre-written, comprehensive medical history biography to assist said doctor in discovering something awful about my health. It had less to do with sex, more to do with her love of going to the doctor and my strict avoidance of it.
I do remember Mom’s reaction to “Jesus Freak” and I felt sorry for Jon too. But, I seem to recall YOU suggesting that he play it on the living room stereo in the first place! The poor guy must’ve paid for it with at least an hour’s worth of lecture.
But, yes, she’s come a long way from the days of trashing hard-rockers Rich Mullins and Amy Grant. She loves Rich now! And they did do a pretty good job as parents. I don’t think we’ll have any major problems, since, on the most part, they’ve come to appreciate my “creativity.” I think you’ll get away with doing things differently more easily than I will, though, because: a) You’ll probably do less differently, b) They “worried” about you less when you were growing up, and c) Like they can argue with a Marriage & Family Therapist! You had swaying power in their approaches with me back when you were just a psychology student! But I do think blaming Kevin is a good plan. As a matter of fact, can I get something in writing now that says he, as a Scientific-Unofficial Doctor-Favorite Child-Specialist, fully endorses anything I do? They’ll believe him. Just like they did when he told them I was out dancing on barroom tabletops! :)
JSmo needs a blog! Between the two of you, there are like 75 amazing stories on this page alone!
lex — 75! I’ve tried to talk JSmo into it too, but she keeps insisting she’s not a writer and that she’s content living vicariously through FtR. I say she should get rollin’ on The Daily Smo!
JSmo DOES need a blog. I thoroughly agree.
I read this post several days ago, but couldn’t come up with an appropriate response.
I’m not sure I have one yet.
I do know that I came home one day and had a book on my bed. It was something like the books mentioned in this post, although I don’t remember the title.
And another one came near my teen years.
And another one came when I started dating. It had crazy questions in it like, “Can a girl get pregnant from performing oral sex?”
There’s no way my mom read that book before she gave it to me.
JB says that her parents never, never, never, never EVER mentioned sex. EVER. No books. Nothing.
I’m thinking we’re gonna do things differently.
Suggestions are indeed welcome.
Okay, if someone will set it up for me, maybe I’ll blog. Until then, vicarious living is pressure free!
Steve, I’ve seriously seen “Where Did I Come From?” at several play therapy conferences, suggesting that it still is a classic in childhood/family sex talks. If you really want suggestions, the most important thing is openness about sex or any topic for that matter. Kids who feel like their parents are open on any topic are more likely to approach their parents and take their parents advice over the advice they get on the playground (sadly to say) or in the locker room. But, of course, you already know that. Also, not giving TMI…answering the specific question only. As I recall, you’ve already passed that test with one of your sons while you were shaving in the bathroom one morning! (or was that Milford?)
Katy, yes, your ending to the bra story is accurate, indeed! But, I think that bra stayed there until a couple years later when I dug it out and put a safety pin in the front of it so it had the look of an authentic bra instead of a trainer/sports bra. By that time, I desperately WANTED to wear a bra, not because I needed it, but to fit in with everyone else in my class who wore one but didn’t need one. Sadly, I was too embarressed to ask, and of course, Mom wasn’t going to bring it up again! I should’ve sent you in to ask for me! You always were the brave one!
Steve — It’s funny that our parents both left books on the bed! Yeah, the Dobson book had crazy questions like that in it too. I remember wondering if they read it before they left it on my bed; it’s possible they went on Dobson’s name alone, but I figure they must’ve at least skimmed it. There was another book around the house that had “questions for teenagers” in the title and the chapter on sex had stuff like that in it. (But that book wasn’t ever given to me. I just took it off the shelf out of my own curiosity.) The book-on-the-bed approach continued well into college. I Kissed Dating Goodbye showed up in HS, of course. Then, when I went to HSU and started dating someone, I came home on break to discover two books about choosing the right husband (one by Dobson, one by Kay Arthur), plus Elizabeth Elliot’s Let Me Be a Woman. Wait, no. She actually mailed that one to me. Lady in Waiting was on the bed.
Maybe we should collect stories of how parents talked/didn’t talk to their kids about sex. That could be insightful!
I’ll leave the suggesting to JSmo, but, really, I’m sure you’ll have personal testimonies to share before I do, so I’ll take any tips you discover!
JSmo — It’s strange that I ended up both the brave AND the shy one, isn’t it?
Yep, WDICF is probably still a good resource. I’d just remind parents to tell their kids that they might what to leave the public reading and Q&A up to their friends’ parents!
Look what I just found:
http://www.amazon.com/Whats-Happening-Me-guide-puberty/dp/0818403128/ref=pd_bbs_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1221358151&sr=8-2
Another title for our collection of books on the bed!
Woo hoo!
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