Don't Hit the Girls and Make Them Cry
I have never considered “the talk” to be a one-and-done conversation. Sex—like any other topic in our home—is part of the ongoing dialogue, weaving in and out of daily life.
I’m a mom of four boys, and my oldest is dangerously close to puberty. We’ve had many talks about the changes ahead, but beyond a basic “God made mommies and daddies to fit together like puzzle pieces” explanation for how babies are made, my husband and I have not yet talked about the mechanics of sex. Our boys just haven’t been ready.
But last summer, I started getting nervous that our son’s classmates would beat us to the conversation, filling his mind with new (and likely inaccurate) information. I wanted to gauge what our second grader had been hearing at school.
One day, as I was driving him home from soccer practice, I decided it was an opportune moment. Only the two of us were in the car, and car conversations—with the minimal eye contact and undivided attention—tend to elicit more honest responses in my kids.
I started in with the questions, “Hey, so do kids at school ever talk about boys and girls and relationships?”
“Yeah. Sometimes, I guess,” he mumbled as he looked out the car window, fidgeting with his water bottle.
“Like what do they say?”
“I don’t know. My friends and I don’t really talk about that stuff.”
“Well, do your friends ever talk about boys and girls doing anything physically. . . like. . . more than hugging?”
His head snapped in my direction, brows furrowed, and with the most serious and concerned expression, he responded, “You mean like punching?” He went on to reassure me that he would NEVER hit a girl.
I did my best to stifle a laugh as relief flooded over me. I think we’re fine.
I’m not a helicopter mom, and when it comes to talking about life with my boys, I usually err on the side of too much. But in that moment, I was so grateful and struck by his innocence. I know many good things come from growing up, but gosh how I wish I could have bottled up that unspoiled childlike perspective—and one day give it to him as a sedative when the hormones start raging.
Sarah lives in Fort Wayne, Indiana with her husband Ben and their four boys. She’s a 4w3 on the Enneagram and loves coffee, Thai food, fancy cheese, and Taco Bell.
Sarah values family, authenticity, good conversation, creativity, bubble baths, and fine (or not-so-fine) red wine.
Her writing invites readers to find God’s fullness in everyday life—in the beautiful, the broken, and the in-between. You can find more from Sarah on her blog (sarahewestfall.com), Facebook (@sarahewestfallwriter), Instagram (@sarah_westfall), and as a regular contributor at LifterToday and Light From The Word.