Last year I wrote about the girl’s first foray into the public school class “Family Life,” a nice euphemism for Sex Ed.
This year, in seventh grade, the curriculum is getting a bit more detailed. Last night, after dinner, she was giving her dad and me a rundown of what she’s learning. Words and phrases came out of her mouth that simultaneously made me want to either laugh or clap my hands over my ears and sing “Do Wah Diddy” at the top of my lungs.
I kept telling her how, in my repressed parochial school upbringing we NEVER learned the stuff she’s learning and frankly, I think it’s great that she knows what she does from an appropriate source. My generation, you know, the one that hit puberty the same time that AIDS was sweeping the nation, is a throwback to a bit more squeamish time. It’s refreshing to me, that our daughter is comfortable enough to tell us what she’s learning, without embarrassment and with a little bit of delight, I think as we turn to her with our mildly shocked expressions.
Dear Lord, please let our daughter continue to tell us everything, even when it makes our ears bleed. Amen.
My older girl got her first round of Family Life last year in 4th. At first, she didn’t want to talk about it, but now she does ask questions. I also told her that she could not only talk with her father and me, but also her grandmother and my sister, both of whom have taught it at their schools.
This year, the younger girl will get Family Life and I’m curious as to how she’ll handle it.
Thanks for helping me appreciate my world of preschool parenthood.