GAIL WHITE At a loss for words when it comes to 'The Talk'

"My baby has been poking at the ever-popular subject, 'Where do babies come from?'" my friend, Tina Bukovi of Las Vegas, e-mailed me.
It seems, while riding in the car one day, her 9-year-old son popped the question.
His father responded by folding his hands as if in prayer and saying, "If you wish REALLY hard ..."
"Sure, he was driving the car and didn't have to see the lost look on our beloved's face," Tina wrote. "It was up to me to tell him we would discuss it later."
"Later" was precisely four days.
"Later is here, and I can't ignore the question any longer as I have in the past," she wrote in desperation.
"I got on the Internet ... but it didn't give me any specific words to use. I couldn't find a copy of the afterschool special, 'My Mom's Having A Baby,' that my parents showed me in the '70s."
"So, I hit the library. Tonight, we will be sharing 'Everyone Has A Bellybutton' and the evergreen, 'How Was I Born?'"
The perpetual conundrum
From the beginning of time, "the talk" has been every parent's perpetual conundrum.
Do we tell them what "it" is and persuade them not to "do it?" Or, do we not talk about "it" and hope they don't figure it out and "do it?"
(It has been proved that the latter does not work. They ALL figure it out.)
Then there is the do "it" safely train of thought. This theory is like telling children to put a plastic bag over themselves and walk into a beehive. The odds are highly probable they'll get stung.
My parents subscribed to the trickle-down effect.
My sister was given "the book." She read it and gave it back, no questions asked.
Apparently she was supposed to fill me in on "the book," because it was never given to me.
Tina's parents went the movie route. Have the child watch the movie. Ask if she has any questions. When she doesn't, then she "knows."
Today's approach
The days of parental hemming and hawing are over, however. Parents these days are much more open and direct.
I heard a story of a couple with four children explaining "it" to their oldest child.
They sat down with the child and used pictures with proper terminology to explain.
When they were done, the child looked at them with horror on his face and said, "You had to do that four times?"
"Four times," they nodded in agreement.
It seems, even the most prepared parent can be hit with the unexpected when talking about "it."
The schools have gotten in the act much more than they did in my day.
Back then, they pulled the girls out of class one afternoon in fifth grade and showed us a movie. As I recall, it was very vague and understated. We really didn't have a clue what the movie was talking about.
Son's reaction
I remember hesitantly signing the release form a few years ago for my oldest son to attend "the talk" at school, naively wondering when the boys started to be included.
A few weeks later, I was driving him and a group of his friends to an event. One of the boys commented on the talk.
My son turned around and responded, "Yeah, and if that wasn't sick enough ..."
It was then that I realized "the talk" had changed, and there were no holds barred on the details.
I couldn't decide if I was upset or relieved. I concluded "sick enough" was a good thing.
Yet, it was a great opening for discussion later -- which we had. In fact, we've had some pretty cool talks about love and "it" and our expectations regarding the two.
Somewhere between "wish really hard" and "sick enough" lies the truth about where babies come from.
It is a truth that can only be found through dialog. That dialog starts with "Everyone Has A Bellybutton" and doesn't end until the child says, "I do."
In the meantime, I am hoping "it" is "sick enough" for a long time.
gwhite@vindy.com