JourneyPersonal

Sex and Drug Education

I'm currently engaged in conversation with a friend about what to tell my kid about sex and drugs, and when. And do you tell them how you happened to come by this information? Do you 'fess up that you've smoked dope, snorted cocaine, had sex with strangers, had abortions, and it wasn't all it's cracked up to be?

I'm still naive enough to believe that telling the truth - as much truth as I can stand to tell - is better than lying or playing it coy.

I picture that having a heart-to-heart discussion of the pain I caused myself by having sex too soon, readily and often would be helpful. I've had thoughts of writing a book(s) on the subject. "The real truth about sex for girls" and "The real truth about sex for boys." Include gay/lesbian/bi/transgender discussion, masturbation, petting/experimentation, diseases and their prevention of course, suggestions for backing off a partner who's pressuring you and so forth. Include graphical descriptions of genital warps, herpes, as well as pregnancy, abortion and AIDS. Evoke the emotional distress of having given it up and then being abandoned or disdained. (Doesn't sex sound fun now, kiddies?) And "the good part" of course, bonding, physical sensation, maturation, release.

I picture that telling Matt honestly about my tentative experiments with drugs, and how GLAD I am I remained tentative and cautious with them, would have a good effect. Telling him horror stories about friends and acquaintances who weren't so cautious and ended up fucked up, fired, hurt or dead wouldn't hurt.

The key element I think is having thought about your own use and its effects in your life to a great extent, and being willing to let go of wanting/needing your children to think (a) you can do no wrong (b) have done no wrong, and (c) you're a hero. And of course, having matured past the need to overindulge in drugs or alcohol anymore. I don't quite trust that I'm there yet, but right now, it's looking promising.

Test: If there was an honest book on the subject, would you give it to your kids, or otherwise try to prevent them reading it? If you'd let them read the book, my sense is the info would be more powerful coming from you.

I get e-mailed pleas to participate in Texas' school board textbook adoption discussions, to ensure they include accurate, comprehensive sex education materials. I'm all for that - it's ridiculous that we're having to have the discussion about whether or not to include condom use and training. Can you say Ostrich?

But I don't intend to leave the incredibly important job of educating my son in these matters to the school district. However I decide to impart the information, he'll have the whole story.

Matt's Kind Offer

Matt has finally gotten old enough that I can leave him with his Grandma for a couple of hours at a time. Grandma is really frail, nearing 80, and wasn't equipped to handle a rambunctious preschooler, but now that Matt's a schooler, it seems to work. They play cards and feed the birds and get to know one another one-on-one, all good.

So a couple of weeks ago, Matt and I were trundling around Loop 410 to drop him off with Grandma so I could meet Greg at our marriage counselor's office. Marriage counseling is great; I highly recommend it. It's taken us from the brink, packing suitcases and shouting in one another's face, to that warm, happy space that we have always called our Love Power Base. And given the fact that neither of us is gainfully employed right now, that's quite an achievement.

Matt never wants to be left out, or excluded, even for Grandma. "Where are you going, again?"

"To see the marriage counselor with Dad," I reminded him.

"What do you do there?"

"We talk about our marriage, how we feel about each other, our problems. Remember a few months ago, we were arguing a whole lot? Talking with this lady teaches us how to get along better, reminds us why we love each other. We're a lot happier now," I explained carefully.

"Is she a doctor?" he asked next.

"A doctor for your feelings, kind of."

He thought about this for a minute, then said, "How much do you pay her?"

"Ninety dollars," I replied.

I tell Matt the truth whenever possible - unless I feel it may damage him in some way. Though I worry about this near-full-disclosure policy at times, my own childhood experiences taught me that kids pick up on the levels and severity of the household stress anyway. They may as well know the whole story, since an egocentric child's imaginings of the cause is generally worse than the truth, and being caught by surprise is awful, too. Don't I need to "model" working at my marriage, facing my demons, as well as patience in the grocery line?

Still, the nagging worry is in the back of my mind. What will he make of this information? His reaction wasn't what I'd expected, though.

He snorted. "90 DOLLARS for an HOUR? For listening to you talk?"

I tried to explain. "It's not as easy as it sounds, honey. Dr. G went to school for a long time - as long as a doctor - to learn how to help us figure stuff out. And I used to make $120 an hour for teaching people to use their computers to make web sites or books, so it's really not all that much money."

He considered for a minute, then smiled and said, "Tell you what, Mom - I'll do it for 20."

I can easily picture him listening patiently to the two of us - all the while contemplating what that $20 will buy at Toys R. S., as he calls it. When we finally paused for breath, he'd say, "OK, OK, but you still love each other more than anything in the world except me. Now give each other a hug, and no more fighting, you two!"

He's no stranger to hearing us argue and make up, in fact. I'd read that it's OK for your kid to hear you argue, as long as they get to see the whole cycle, including the kiss-and-make-up part. But having him be our counselor? That's over the line, even for me.