Today’s guest poster is Laurie from Utah Sweeney’s.  Laurie is a very fun writer with a great sense of humor.  You can find her blogging relugarly at In a World Surrounded by Men (and she is, too, she has four sons!)
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My brother in-law was aghast at a recent post that I wrote where I quoted him saying something questionable about my youngest brother. It wasn’t anything bad, in fact, I think my little brother would have thought that it was as funny as I did. But my sister immediately replied to her husband that he must guard what he says around me because everything is in the running for potential blog material.

I admit that is true. If you’re reading this, I’m sure you can understand that writing a blog means seeing everyday life activities in potentially post-able segments.

Let me just say that I am not a scrapbooker and my baby books have fallen by the wayside, so starting my blog not only allowed me an outlet to write, but also created memories to keep and recreated laughter from those “special moments” that otherwise might have been forgotten over time.

All that being said, I think my boys will agree someday that their young lives were viewed in “posts” and I hope they can laugh with me rather than take revenge!

When adults become parents we start to explore and decide on our parenting philosophies. For example, will we let our baby cry himself to sleep or will we soothe him? Will we spank? Will we allow him to watch television and if so, what can he watch and how often?

Parents have some big decisions to make!

One of the discussions my husband and I had as new parents was regarding our approach to sex education. It started with whether we would call private parts by their true names, or something different. Would we have “the talk” at a certain age, or would we casually introduce it over time?

Although we both had different experiences growing up, we easily agreed that we didn’t want it to be a forbidden, secret or embarrassing topic in our family. We call body parts for what they are and when our boys were old enough to ask a question, we felt they were old enough to know the answer. The goal was to not act embarrassed or uncomfortable about the subject. We wanted them to feel like they could ask us anything.

In the times we live in, I felt strongly that I would rather our boys hear the truth from me than from a giggly schoolmate on the bus someday. I would rather our boys not be surprised and possibly even give accurate information to a peer when the subject comes up.

Most of all, I want them to know that the actual act of sex is not purely physical, but emotional and psychological. An act created by God for such intimacy between a man and a woman should be sacred, because otherwise, it has serious consequences.

Follow through is sometimes the hard part.

Our oldest son started asking somewhat detailed questions on this subject a few months after our fourth son was born. I felt alright about this because he was seven years old and is such the thinker in our family. He processes information until there is nothing else to wonder about, so I wasn’t surprised to hear the question.

“Mom, I was wondering, I know the sperm and the egg make the baby. But how does the sperm from the daddy get into the mommy’s body?”

Gulp.

At that moment my stomach dropped into my big toe. I had danced around the subject during my entire pregnancy by giving simple answers about the egg from the mommy and the sperm from the daddy coming together to make a baby.

BUT, I had prepared for this as well. Some time ago, I bought a book for the five to eight year old age group called “Before I Was Born” by Carolyn Nystrom. It is very upfront and tells the entire story from beginning to end, sparing no details and in a way that is considerate of the sacredness of sex.

So, that afternoon while his brothers were all down for a rest time, I sat down and read it to him. I explained that he was now old enough to know all about this special part of life, but that it was only for parents to tell their own children and at the right time.

Translation: don’t go telling your friends or little brothers about this.

I worked hard at reading very casually, and when we were done I asked if he had any questions.

“Yeah mom, I have one question.”

“Sure buddy, you can ask me anything.”

“Did you and Dad put your privates together?”

(I did not see that one coming!)

“Well, is that how babies are made?”

“Yeah.”

“So, yes. That’s how we got you and your brothers.”

“OK.”

And off to play he went without another word about it. Mission accomplished. I think.

This memory came to mind yesterday when my second son who just turned six came to me with a picture he had drawn. He had his birthday on his mind, so he had drawn a picture of Daddy, his big brother and me with a big tummy with a little stick figure inside of it.

“That’s me in your tummy!” he said.

“I loved having you in my tummy,” I replied.

Then I noticed all these little dots around the baby in my belly.

“What are these dots?” I asked.

“Those are the spears,” he answered.

“The what?”

“You know, the spears that mix with the egg.”

“Oh, you mean the sperm!”

“Yeah, the sperm.” He walked away giggling.

I think the trickle-down effect has kicked in and I have another story time coming up!

I’m excited to introduce you to Heather from Running from the Little People and From Grey to Green, she’s a great fun read and she’s guest posting here today.

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When Beth first asked me to guest post for her while she was offline for a few days, my initial reaction was, “Sure! I’d be happy to!”

As soon as that thought passed from my brain to my keyboard to give her an answer, I broke into a nervous sweat. I mean, come on. This is BETH. Designer extraordinaire, amazing photographer, green thumb gardener and beautiful…BETH. Is there really anything I can say while I’m here “eating all of her food,” keeping an eye on things that will not leave her readers begging to have her back on their screen instead of this strange sweaty woman standing in for her?

Once I calmed down, I realized something. You and I have a lot in common. We both come over to Beth’s blog to read what is on her heart each day. Although Beth’s corner of the internet is one of the first places I read each day, it’s not the only blog that I frequent. I’m willing to bet it’s not the only one for you, either. As a matter of fact, statistically, I’m betting that the majority of you have your own blog, just as I do.

In the past few years, I have been amazed at how communities form on the internet. It’s something that our parents probably never envisioned as a part of the future.

My own blog reading started when I read an article in a magazine about “Mommy Bloggers” finding their niche on the internet. I visited the two blogs mentioned in the article and a couple of years later, I have more blogs that I frequent than I’d be willing to count.

When I speak of the women that I read online to my husband, I refer to them often as friends. When they are in pain, I grieve and pray for them. When they are rejoicing, I find myself as excited for them as I would be for one of the friends that I actually see face to face on a regular basis. When they don’t post for a few days, I get worried. I try to encourage when they need it and they’ve done the same for me.

There was a time when community was defined as a group of people living in close proximity. Times have changed. I move very often and the most amazing community I’ve found is one that can go with me to each new chapter of life. We may all come from different backgrounds, we may like different political candidates and we may never meet face to face but we are a community. I’m so thankful to be able to refer to you as my friends.

Now, friends, stick around and let’s “fold Beth’s laundry” and keep Beth’s place looking spiffy for her while she’s away. That’s what friends are for.

Every year, for the past 8 years, Brian, my sister, her husband and I all head out for a two night trip to Southern Indiana.  Now I know that sounds awfully glamorous and you would be right.  It is.  We rent a condo for two nights that sits on a golf course.  Our husbands drink and play golf THE ENTIRE TIME WE ARE THERE, while Sarah and I shop and eat ice cream…and pizza…and drink coffee…and beer.  It’s the most perfect, awesome, beautiful tradition EVER, EVER, EVER.  We all love it and not only do we love it, but our kids love it.  Ariel and Racecar CAN NOT wait until we leave because they get to spend two nights at Grandma’s house, which only brings us peace and happiness.

Why am I telling you about this?  Because that’s where we are right now.  So, you won’t see me around these parts for a few days, but don’t worry, I scored two awesome guest posters who will be sharing their words with all of you.  I can’t wait for you to meet them.  You will love them, I promise.

Have a great start to the week – I’ll see you on Wednesday!

Oh and I’m having a Febreze giveaway over here that ends on Wednesday.