The birds & the bees.

horseless carriage

horseless carriage

Well-known Member
Did you ever have "the talk," with your parents about the facts of life? Was it cringe worthy or informative? When it came to your turn to tell the children that, actually, they weren't found under the gooseberry bush, how did it go? Was it: "The time has come Son, to learn about the facts of life." "Yes Dad, what did you want to know? My father explained but it was more like painting by numbers, he never actually got around to saying that tab A goes into slot B. I read up on the subject at the reference library. So, have you a tale to tell?
 

Nope, never had the "talk". Jeffery, a classmate, told me, but I didn't believe him. So when I got home, my mom was washing dishes, and I said" How does a women get a baby?" She dropped the plate, and never told me. The only other time there was any kind of "talk", was when I was headed out to the door to my senior prom. My mom said, "if you get her pregnant, don't come crying to us about it".
It wasn't a Hallmark Moment.
 

I think it is absolutely tragic when kids are brought up in a home where being open and honest about sex is taboo. That is not an area of life that is best learned about by only trial and error. But then, if the blind are leading the blind, poor advice or information can be worse than none. So we leave it up to the media and the "teachers" who often have a personal agenda to push. Big mistake. And no, neither my wife or I were prepared to do a good job of that with our kids at the time. They both made mistakes that could have been avoided, had we done our jobs better. So sad. And I'm not happy with the way I cope with it by just saying, we all do the best we can with what we have at the time.
 
TooMuchMuktuk said:
I think it is absolutely tragic when kids are brought up in a home where being open and honest about sex is taboo.
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That's a very good point, my father did his best but on reflection I'm sure that he was uncomfortable about the subject and just wanted to get the point across. He didn't, but he guessed right in that I would follow up on the subject. The book that I read, it was more like a reference book, so sorry I can't remember the title & author, but that book was informative, sensitive and educational.

There were subjects that most parents would go out of their way to avoid, for example: "Coitus interruptus." That book explained how ineffective it was and many an unplanned pregnancy occurred because of that method. I don't know if there is a way that parents can explain the facts of life, maybe it should be left to professionals, The talk, was one subject that I have never had to broach upon, thankfully.
 
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Nope, no-one told me, not parents nor school, nor any friends.. doubt that the latter were aware either..... it's a horrible sad embarrassing thing for me to relate that 4 days shy of my 21st birthday I had no idea how my baby was going to appear out of my body while I lay in full labour for 57 agonising hours...
 
hollydolly said:
Nope, no-one told me, not parents nor school, nor any friends.. doubt that the latter were aware either..... it's a horrible sad embarrassing thing for me to relate that 4 days shy of my 21st birthday I had no idea how my baby was going to appear out of my body while I lay in full labour for 57 agonising hours...
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That is incredible to me hollydolly. It must have been a shock when you finally gave birth!
 
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My parents didn't talk about it, but the public school system made sure we knew about it. In high school, we had to take a sex education class. I hid behind my book, feeling so embarrassed. My eleven year old son had to learn about it in fifth grade. I was outraged. it's one thing to learn about it when you're in high school, but fifth grade? That's too early in my book.
 
palides2021 said:
My parents didn't talk about it, but the public school system made sure we knew about it. In high school, we had to take a sex education class. I hid behind my book, feeling so embarrassed. My eleven year old son had to learn about it in fifth grade. I was outraged. it's one thing to learn about it when you're in high school, but fifth grade? That's too early in my book.
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We didn't get Sex Ed at school...

My Dd had to learn it iin 5th grade also... I remember thinking I should start to tell her a little bit nnow she's 11, not much but juststart, and she shut me down instantly saying...''ooh mum we've learned all about that stuff in school''
 
IMO it’s never too young to have age appropriate conversations about sex or any other subjects.

If the kid is old enough to ask the question they are old enough to hear the answer.
 
Aunt Bea said:
IMO it’s never too young to have age appropriate conversations about sex or any other subjects.

If the kid is old enough to ask the question they are old enough to hear the answer.
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I understand you, but my concern was why plant the seed on this topic to children so young? If they ask that question so young, I could reply, "I'll tell you when you're older." I'm not saying not to tell them, but when it's appropriate. It's as if a child is asking me, "How do I drive a car?" Do I answer that just because they asked the question? They're too young yet to know how to drive a car. I might be wrong, but that's where my thinking goes.

Also, the children don't have the frontal lobe developed yet, and that's the decision-making part of the brain (not until they're in their twenties). By being told about it by 'authorities' at such an early age (grade school), it's as if we are saying to them, "It's important to know." Why is it important to know this? Do children have to know it? My motto has been, "They will learn in good time." There's something called critical thinking in childhood development when the child is ready to learn something. That is why in school some children are faster in certain topics than other children (due to different birth dates), and by the end of the school year, most all of them are caught up. I think we have to be careful what we teach our children because they are so impressionable. Thank you for this discussion. It made me think on a topic I have completely not thought about in a long time. :)
 
Aunt Bea said:
We figured it out as we went along.😉

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Nice song. That one is part of my collection of 1075 songs with guitar chords. I saw Little Jimmy one time when I went to Nashville, the Grand ole' Opry, of course. Roy Acuff, Hank Snow and Bill Monroe were on that night. Too bad they are all gone. They had talent, they could sing and they could perform. Don't get me started with the new breed of singers with the torn jeans and the underwear shirts.
 
The nearest thing we had in school was the infamous "sex talk" that was a 9th grade tradition.

The boys' gym teacher talked to them. Our gym teacher talked to us.

I have no idea what the boys were told (probably something along the line of "keep it zipped"), but I'll never forget the info we got. Essentially it was "boys are beasts and all they think about is sex and they can't control themselves, so you girls have to control things."

Yep, that was about it for the "sex talk". Oh, in addition, the whole problem apparently is that girls' sex organs are "hidden away", while boys' doo-dads are right out there, constantly reminding them of the dirty deed. So, that's why we had to be "in charge".....

Needless to say, I couldn't look a boy straight in the eye for days, knowing what I had just learned! Of course, I'm pretty sure no boys were looking at me that way....frizzy hair, tall and skinny, acne, unattractive glasses and braces on my teeth......but I was appalled the same, nevertheless.

My best friend attended a convention school and they were told by the nuns never to go out to dinner with a boy to a restaurant with white table cloths.......it would make the boys think about beds. Italian restaurants only with red checkered tablecloths.

How did we get through it?
 
I never received “the talk” either, but my father bought and gave to me a used introductory medical book that had chapters on all bodily systems. The chapter on reproduction had black and white pictures of people with various types of diseases and genetic disorders of their *******ia. That put me off sex for a long time, I’ll tell ‘ya! Perhaps that was the purpose of giving me the book
 đŸ˜łđŸ˜±
 
I used books written for kids and also somehow got up the gumption to talk to my kids.

By the end, they were saying, Stop, Mom, you're embarrassing us! So I musta had plenty of gumption. I told them facts, including those about consent, pregnancy, birth control, STDs, and child support payments for 18 years. I answered all their questions. No problem getting them to read the books, of course! Luckily, the books covered topics the kids were embarrassed to discuss with me.

My own mother only told us about the changes puberty would bring. My sister and I heard those lectures too many times, and she stopped right before what we really wanted to know. In the 9th grade, I looked up "birds and bees" in the health book, and through that, found the answer to how people get pregnant and give birth. That was quite an eye-opener. I had figured out how people got pregnant (through kissing) and how babies got born (through the belly button) earlier, but had realized by age 14 that this could not be true.
 
horseless carriage said:
Did you ever have "the talk," with your parents about the facts of life? ......... So, have you a tale to tell?
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Mom and Dad were mum on 'the topic'

However

Experience was my informant

Couple tales brought me up to some sorta speed;

Tom Gurls

1957
I was dropped off for the day at the Beasley farm.
I don’t recall how or why, but, since both folks worked, ever so often I’d just get dropped off for the day
..at someone’s place.
Didn’t matter if I knew them or not.
What did matter, I guess, was that someone was watching my 7 or 8 year old idiot savant self.

The Beasleys had a farm, cows, fields, ponds, barns of hay, yards of farm animals
.and three sisters.
Horrifically wild, country girl wild, sisters.

Mom chatted with Mrs Beasley as I settled in at the kitchen table.
‘Oh he’ll be fine, there’s plenty to do here.’
‘OK, bye bye.’
And she was gone.

The kitchen smelled of ham and eggs.
I was given a glass of milk, raw milk, warm raw milk, accompanied with the complimentary clumps.
‘You don’t like milk?’
‘Full.’ (ready to hork up my own breakfast)
‘Well, why don’t you go outside, the girls will be out in a minute.’

(Gurls??!!)

They aged around 10, 12, and 13 I’d say.
‘Mamma, can we play with the boy?’
I felt like Lennie Small’s imaginary rabbit.

They too had bib overalls, but no shoes, no T-shirt, just bibs.
‘Wanna play in the barn?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
Not realizing I was the prey for catching and raping, I climbed the hay bales and crawled thru the tunnels they’d made.
It was quite fun at first.
Things turned a bit when I heard the eldest say something like ‘he’s over there, get him’.
I made for the open air, and scurried toward the corn field.
Not a chance.

The eldest tackled me at about the third row.
Everything kinda gets fuzzy after that, as I was picked up and thrown down like the calf in a calf roping contest.
My arms and legs were pinned by their knees, as all six hands eagerly explored my entire self
.things even I had yet to explore.

So, being the only one present of sound mind, I immediately employed my most potent offense, which consisted of violently flopping my head from side to side.
This abated some when the eldest straddled my face.
I then went into stealth mode, lying as still as one could while being tossed up and down, probed, rubbed, and generally molested, farm girl style.

Eventually (I’d say sometime late morning) they lost interest.
Lunch.
‘Did you girls show Gary the castration shed?’

(!!!!!!!!!)

I don’t recall leaping up, running out the door, or the journey to the pond, but I have feint recollection of the sound of the kitchen chair hitting the floor, and the screen door slamming shut.

I played with the ducks and geese on the other side of the pond, taking swift glances behind me every few seconds, until I heard our Chevy pull up.

Farm girls, as a rule, turned into extremely fit, vivacious young ladies, and seemed to know what they wanted, and when they wanted it (now).
I avoided them like the plague, right up until about 15 or 16. Then we, shall we say, taught each other a few things.



Gurls

My first real girlfriend, other than dancer number three from the Jackie Gleason Show, was Patricia.
Fourth grade I think it was.
She had this smile, this beguiling smile, and if per chance she cast one your way, well, it turned all us guys into befuddled masses of profound stupidity.
I was no exception
and she knew it.

So every time she would come near, or I mysteriously found myself near her, I’d make sure and do something cool, like flip my fountain pen up in the air and nonchalantly catch it, writing side down.
Unknowing that I’d just sprayed myself with a unique pattern of Sheaffer traditional blue ....Boob, James Boob.

Oh, yeah, and her eyes
flashing, batting brown eyes
.and some kinda smell too..better than, say, my catcher’s mitt, or even gramma’s rhubarb pie.

That’s all I remember about her looks.
Didn’t even consider the shape of her hind end, or if she even had one for that matter.

One blessed day her parents invited my parents to dinner.
I sat across the table from her, sipping my shaken not stirred fruit punch, creating a rather distinguished looking purple mustache.

These folks had lived outta the states for a few years, and rather proudly offered up their unusual cuisine.
There, on my plate, was a heaping festering mound of curry and rice. Not the spicy curry of the orient, no, this was some sorta green slimey slices of slugguts.

Patricia smiled at me.

I forked the slug slices, and moved them around my plate, mustering and encouraging my life long taste buds for fried potatoes, hamburger patties and ketchup.
I furtively went to the potatoes.
Only they were swimming in some sorta gawd awful milk sauce...not fried, definitely not fried.
I think I had two bites, feigning nausea, gladly skipping dessert which looked much like mousse of dog vomit.

Patricia invited me up to her room (HER ROOM!!!), upstairs,

And there I was, in a girl’s room.

Puffy, fuzzy things.
Pink things.
Lacy, frilly things.
Some sorta awning of posts and frilly cloth over her bed.
Pillows, stuffed toys, more pillows, more toys.

So there we were.
‘Nice place ya got here’ (I almost said ‘doll face’, but somehow knew my Bogart wasn’t working any better than my Bond).

‘You are in third place on my list.’

(‘what? There’s a list?’)

‘If you kiss my locket, you’ll be at the top.’

(‘If I kiss her locket?’)
(‘what the heck is a locket?’)

She pulled a dainty gold chain from where, I’d discover years later, cleavage came from.
Her locket was a little gold heart.
I felt really really stupid.
Here I was, in a gurl’s room, with all this claustrophobic crap, and even considering kissing her locket for cryin’ out lowd.
Get me the heck outta here!

(bat, bat, smile)

S-o-o-o-o after I kissed her locket, landing me solidly into first place, we went downstairs.

Funny thing. Next day at school, I took on a much different persona.
My once pitter patting heart went back to a normal beat.
Her smile took on a more sneer like function.
Her batting eyes became nothing more than a possible Tourette.
Her smell took on the odor of curry.
Basically, she disgusted me, and less than 24 ago, I kissed her locket...damn.

My first fleeting relationship.

Not for locker room lore.

​



 
Never any talk of sex education in my family home.
I do remember sex education classes at school.
One lesson we watched To Sir With Love and had a discussion about it.
I remember one time Oral sex was being discussed.
My first thought was, how can talking about it be fun? đŸ€Ș
 
This thread reminded me of a girl that lived up my street. I saw her one day and she looked like she was having a baby. She was about 5yrs older than me. I asked her if she was having a baby and she said yes. Then she proceeded to tell me how she got pregnant. She said she met a boy and went to his house and took a nap in his bed. She then said and a couple of weeks later I found out I was pregnant. She then said I don't understand how you can get pregnant by sleeping with a boy. She said I've been sleeping with my Younger brother for years. She really didn't know what having sex was.
 
I’m reminded of a story about a boy who asked his father where he came from. The father swallowed hard, but knew that this question would eventually come, so with the aid of tasteful diagrams he explained the mechanics of sexual reproduction to his son.

Some time later, the son interrupted his father’s explanations to say, “Dad, this is interesting, but Jimmy in school said that he came from Pittsburgh. Where did I come from?”

The moral of the story is to understand a child’s actual question, and not give them more information than they may be asking for
 😳
 

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