When I held my beautiful daughter in my arms for the first time, I imagined her first steps. I thought how precious her first words would be.

        I dreamed of reading Where the Wild Things Are, and sled-riding and catching lightning bugs. As I pressed my cheek to hers, I anticipated all the special childhood moments we would share and remember. At no time did these glowing pictures include me explaining sex to my little cherub.

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        I would have waited until she needed to know —— maybe as early as the night before her wedding. Certainly not at age 12. But I had to tell her the facts of life before a special four-day class about abstinence and sexually transmitted diseases.

        Diseases! She sleeps with a stuffed elephant. She still argues with me about having to take a shower. She hates to brush her teeth. My daughter needs to know the facts of life?

Didn't rush it

        We had a couple of weeks notice, so I didn't want to rush into it. First, I had to get advice from my friends, from other parents who had already talked to their kids.

        One mom told her daughter while was making dinner, so she would have something to look at besides her daughter's shocked face. She purchased an anatomically correct pair of dolls to help explain everything, but her husband broke the thingy off the boy doll the day she brought it home. (This occurred, naturally, during a very mature and respectful practice demonstration of certain activities.) I was laughing too hard to get any more details.

        One friend was shocked that I hadn't talked to my daughter yet. She informed me that her daughter had known the truth about the sex act since she was 6 years old. She went on about how important it was to be open and available and tell our kids everything they needed to know. A week later she confessed to me that she had talked to her daughter and found out she didn't remember a thing. So, she told her again. And it was harder than she expected.

        Especially when her daughter asked questions about what things Mommy and Daddy do together.

Flustered by words

        Another couple sat down with their daughter together. Rumor has it that after Dad used the word ejaculate twice in the first two minutes, Mom had to leave the room to regain her composure. It took several minutes for her to stop giggling and return to the discussion.

        It became obvious that the kids were exchanging stories about these discussions just like the adults; my daughter started asking when we were going to have “ the talk”.

        I quickly realized that she had some information already when she made a joking suggestion as she went out the door to a baby-sitting job. “How about if I call you from there, Mom, and we can have the talk on the phone so we don't have to look at each other?” She knew enough to be embarrassed anyway.

        By Sunday night I could no longer come up with any excuses. We sat down together on my bed. She asked me to turn around and not look at her. (We compromised — she laid down and covered herself with a blanket, while I talked to the blanket.) I asked her if she knew how a baby was made, and she talked about fallopian tubes, the uterus and fertilization. I told her we could skip that part since she already knew more than I could remember about a woman's reproductive system. (Now I know where to go the next time I have questions.)

        Did she know what had to happen to the egg before it became a baby?

        “I know that the sperm has to fertilize the egg, and I know that the sperm come from the man, but I don't know the path it takes to get there.”

Impressed by knowledge

        Pretty good way to put it. (Wow, I was impressed; I never would have been able to say the sperm to my mom — even with a blanket over my face.)

        Well, did she know the difference between boys and girls? (Duh, mom.) This is the point where I started to fumble. I talked around the subject, I got a glass of water from the bathroom sink. I tried to tell her what went where, but the words just wouldn't quite come out. Finally she flipped the blanket back from her face and stared at me.

        “You're not going to tell me the car goes in the garage, are you?”

        What do you say to that? I had never even heard that one before. After I stopped laughing hysterically, I finally managed to spit out the facts. But I've been thinking ever since that this is one subject Dr. Seuss should have covered for me. Can't you just hear it?

        “One sperm, two sperm, old sperm, new sperm. This one swims right to the egg, this one limps like it broke a leg.”

        Jennifer Meyer, is 35, years old and works for a local insurance company. She lives in Cheviot with her husband Tom, son Tom and daughter Leah Whitman.

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