Boys and Girls

As a parent of one boy and twin girls, I love having my own little social microcosm unfolding before my eyes. Yes, of course I experienced childhood once already, but it's so very different experiencing it from the other side of the fence.

One year ago, my son (who was then 9) determined that he needed to know about sex. I mean, he wanted to know precisely what happens, who does what, how it happens, etc. (Of course, my husband was out of town when this thirst for knowledge occurred.) And on that particular day, when he just needed to know, he followed me around the house, hounding me with question after question. I gave him some answers--did the best I could--and then informed my husband that he should have "the talk" with my son when he returned from his trip. They had their talk (as I recall, Legos were used for illustrative purposes!) and my son's thirst was quenched.

The other day, during a rare morning when one of the twins (now 9) and I were alone together, she determined that she needed to know about love. For 30 minutes, she asked pointed question after pointed question about dating, love, engagement, marriage, divorce, children. So I answered every question she had until the issue was exhausted.

I don't know if this is truly a gender difference (as I suspect it is) or just a difference between my children (as it could be). But I find it incredible that my son and one of my daughters, at the same age, felt an urgent desire for knowledge about boy-girl relationships, yet each focused on a completely different facet of the relationship: physical vs emotional.

Not one question that my son asked had to do with liking, loving, dating, or building a life with a girl. And not one question that my daughter asked had to do with kissing, touching, or having sex with a boy. ("Ewwwww!" they would each think of the other's questions.)

We'll have many conversations about relationships in the coming years, and they'll eventually have their experiences, too, and every square inch of the territory will get covered. Thoroughly. Painfully. Joyfully. Repeatedly.

But I'll always remember how it started, at age 9. One boy, one girl. So very similar, yet so very different.