A Pre-teen Honesty

A Story by Jennifer Hart

The openness of my 12 year old left me grateful, yet a bit grossed out.

I don't know how other parents of 12 year olds behave, but for me, the fact that my 12 year old son feels the confidence in our relationship to speak freely on sexual matters actually gives me a bit of the feeling of success. Don't all parents strive to be not only the foundation but a friend to their children as well? Understandably, some views or feelings on the matter may differ, and for that I use the popular saying ‘to each his own’. But let me assure you that my relationship with a particular red headed, freckle faced 7th grader leaves me with sore cheeks at the end of the day.

I express myself openly. Many times I have verbal diarrhea that, due to my lack of a filter between my brain and mouth, leaves anyone in earshot with eyes wide open, jaws hung low, and ears tuned directly to the path of my conversation. I have lived like this all of my life, and that did not change simply because I gave birth. I have remained myself, open and honest, and I am now reaping the benefits of such a personality in my relationship with my firstborn. Let me disclose that although I may be brutally honest in the majority of my situations, I do put a small bite mark on my tongue when my children are involved. Still, this character asset, as it turns out to be, has transferred to my child, whom we'll call Gabriel. Now, Gabriel has come into his own way of thinking in the past year. He has matured in a way that leaves him teetering on that line right between grossed out little boy and curious pre-teen. Although this man-child may still crawl into bed with me and lay in the safety of my arms, he has now passed the ritual of kissing me goodbye in front of his friends, lest he be called a momma's boy. His humor is not unlike mine, and as a matter of fact, he has a sarcastic way about his words that makes you forget the he is only now hitting puberty. Just last week he left me in tears as he came into my room right before bedtime, began to strip down to his boxers while making the sounds of a 70's pornography, and with each piece of clothing he proceeded to move his body in an overly exaggerated strip tease solely meant to be as ridiculous as it looked. Yes, he is his mother’s child.

Now, knowing that these are the times when boys get curious and start to see their bodies changing, I have put an effort into not making a big deal of the bodily uses and functions. I see no good to come of teaching our children to be embarrassed by their physical being. To imprint into a child’s mind that the body is a shameful thing only hinders their ability to move past the awkward stage in a timely manner. To stunt the self-acceptance they must find could only do harm.

And so, the time has come now that Gabriel's body is slowly becoming that of a man and he is all too proud to let it be known. With each new discovery of yet another growth in his pubic area or under his arms he feels one step closer to being a stud. With a laugh in my voice I congratulate him on becoming a man, yet remind him that he has a long way to go so it might be in his better interest to avoid running to share the information with all of his friends. (In a side note let me just say that when he first came to me, at the ripe old age of 11, asking about the swapping of spit between a girl and a boy, I simply told him that he may want to wait a little while. When he responded with the question “ Why”, I simply replied back with a question myself. "What if you kiss her and it goes bad? She very well may run back and tell all her friends that you can't kiss!" This was very strategic on my part and worked out well. I believe he has waited to make the big move).

This brings me to the conversation held between myself and Gabriel last Friday night as we were driving to work when he had decided to come and hang out with his mommy for the night. To be completely honest, I am not quite sure how the conversation actually started, but that fact did not matter by the end. What I do remember is that my 12 year old begun to share with me how his friend had told of the experience of masturbation while in a huddle of boys outside the school. As my almost teenage boy is progressing along in the repeating of the story, I cannot help but smile at the fact that he is talking about this with me at all. We are extremely open in our house, but this crosses a new threshold. As I gratefully sit listening we finally come to the conclusion of the friend's tale, where my son ends by saying, 'mom, it went in his mouth'! At this I could do nothing except burst into laughter and nearly run the car off the side of the road. It takes me a moment to somewhat gain control of the car and myself as I tell my son what he just said is absurd. I mean, a boy can't actually do that, can he? Of course he can explore himself and come to a 'conclusion', if you will. But get it into his mouth? And when I inquired this out loud, although I actually had intended it to be an internal question, Gabriel quickly jumps to inform me that yes, indeed, 'it' can actually go far. And so now, the truth is out. My child, my man, has a bit of experience playing Sherlock Holmes with his own body. As we both realize he has unwittingly confessed to such a thing we both begin laughing in fit of chaos. His face gets red as my abdominal muscles tighten from the reaction to what he has just said. Gabe is now in full fledge recovery mode. Every word that comes out of his mouth is meant to take back the thought that he himself masturbates, yet it all has the opposite effect. As the tears roll down each of our faces, I am still grateful of the fact that he is able to laugh at himself as well, knowing that the cat is out of the bag. Through the rest of the conversation, in-between awkward smiles and high fives, I simply let him know that I will no longer be going into his room to retrieve his dirty laundry. That is a task that a young man in his position must take on himself. Thus is the life of a teenage boy. The last question posed by this young red head sitting next to me is one of curiosity. He asks if this experimentation of the body is shared by girls, also. I reply with a strong opinion instead of an answer. 'If the girls started doing to themselves what you boys do, we would have a lot less teen pregnancies"!

And so, my son and I have shared a comical yet informative learning experience that has left us closer, yet again. Somewhere in these past years something I have done as a parent has led to this ability to be honest without reservation. And to me, that is more than a success, it is a miracle. I must be the coolest mom around.