The way I learned it.

When I was about 7 years old. I was in the bathroom with my mom (a usual occurrence) and she had "Aunt Flo"; she called it "her friend". I asked what it was and the answer flat out: I have my period. The conversation led to a woman's menstrual cycle and why we get it and what happens when you get it. Which led to "the birds and the bees".

Once again, Mom was real and honest and didn't use 'baby' terms for anything. Now, looking back I am grateful that she didn't sugar coat anything and that she was real, open and honest. I literally could talk to her straight about any-thing! One of the many of my mom's best qualities.

She used the technical terms for everything and she whipped out different books geared towards teaching children about sex. I have them still, I just can't find them. They looked a lot like this site here. (pretty graphic for a 7 year old) One book (that I can't find online) was called "Before You Were a Baby" by Paul Showers. I still have it in my basement. I plan on using it when the time is right.

I am all for explaining it the way you feel most comfortable. Some people find it difficult to talk about certain topics like how and why you 'do it'. But like my mom, I am most comfortable just saying it. (when it comes to this stuff) I hope when the time comes and Fa is inquiring, I'll be ready and willing to share the secret.

I remember moments like this with my mom and I miss her terribly. I wish she was here to talk about other things like being a Mom and family and well, sex. I am thankful that she taught me certain things but regretful that she still can't be here to teach me more. I always respected her outlook on things. I still wish I was like her.

I remember one time, I was in maybe 7th grade and I was talking poorly about some chick, I don't even remember her name. Wait, yes, I do. But I won't tell you. She approached me and asked if I was talking about her. I admitted it and said I was talking about her because I hated that she "did so and so things" (I think she was just a bitch) and not many people liked her because of it...even the girl that told her I was talking about her hated her. I was shitting my pants but she didn't know it. It ended there.

I went home that day and cried to my Mom. I was upset that the other girl, "my supposed friend" ratted me out and that the chick I was talking about had the balls to call me out. My Mom's advice: "Fuck 'em. Tell both of them to go shit in the woods and tell them to stay far away from you or they'll be sorry. And if you have to, get her down on the ground...they are all the same size as you when they are on the ground." Uhm, OK.

So what did I do? I did what Mom told me to do, of course. Was I shitting? Yes. Guess what happened after that? I was the coolest chick in the 7th grade (for a while anyway). No one fucked with me and everyone wanted to be my friend. And I didn't even have to try to drag her ass to the ground. Yes. Sweet Success.

My Mom was a tough chick. Once, she pulled some lady out of her car and beat the shit out of her for a parking spot under the "El" in Long Island City. The cops came and had to pull her off the woman. Mom had the woman's thumb in her mouth and she was biting down on it and she didn't even realize. She grew up in the Queens Bridge Projects and fought everyone. If you know NYC, you know the Projects. You don't wanna be there. She beat the piss out of boys and girls, she didn't discriminate. After she fought with them and totally kicked their asses, they became her friends and protected her.

I always valued her toughness and hard ass. I wish I was like that. I pretend to be, but I'm not. That's the way I learned about life. I hope I can be as tough for my daughter. I hope Mom's toughness spills into her, my toughness is flighty and unreliable. Our mouths are exactly the same though.

But I did wind up getting my daughter an extra lovey...just in case.
I told you I'd do anything for her.