Cats vs. chickens: explaining sex to your children

How did she do it?

My mom explained sex so easily without the least bit of embarrassment. Her talk to us about how all it
all works was such a non-event in my life at a young age that I can't remember what she said exactly.
And I want to remember because I want to steal it to use with my own kids. Dang, Mom. You made it look so easy.

I think I'm nervous about having the sex talk with my children because I want to get it right - not too much information too soon or an incomplete story that just confuses. What I do know is this: I better figure it out fast. My daughter, and firstborn, is nine - on the verge of tween curiosity and body changes.

I do have this particular book I could use. All I would have to do is sit down with her and read it aloud, get the subject moving in that direction. But that feels too academic and fake. I want her first introduction to sex to come from natural mommy-daughter chatter.

I suspect this sex talk will happen in the car. She in the backseat, me with my eyes on the road. Some of our best conversations have occurred in my minivan. Actually, we did almost have The Talk not too long ago. Just the two of us in the car, no younger brothers to interrupt, no toddler wanting attention.  But the conversation (prompted by another bookstore find) stalled over the menstrual cycle and growing breasts. She simply didn't want to hear it.

So I wait. Gladly.   

In the meantime, I think about how my own mother taught me about sex. As we watched from the kitchen window, our two cats became a great illustration of how babies are made and a good spring board as to what mommies and daddies do too.

I don't have any cats, only an aging Lab that sleeps most of the day and a flock of chickens. I guess I could have a little chicken reproduction talk. I just wish the chickens were a little more cuddly. Who wants to hear about the birds and the bees based on a fowl that pecks the dirt all day?

Or here's another idea - I could stop worrying about it, just let life unfold naturally, and answer her questions as they come up with simple, honest talk. Or perhaps ship the kids off to my mother and let her handle it.

Except she doesn't have cats anymore.

An original post to New Jersey Moms Blog. Monica grew up the Martinsville section of Bridgewater, where cats have no privacy while mating. Visit her blog Paper Bridges.