You know when you’re innocently talking to a child and they open a whole new avenue from where you were planning on going with the conversation? I related it to America’s road system.

Sometimes it’s a simple cul-de-sac. The conversation goes round and round. Other times, it takes a “merging on to the highway” warp-speed jump from innocent to “hold me tightly, I need a moment.” This recent talk with one of my sons about where babies come from combines the two types of streets.

We were on a Georgia highway. My son was talking about some of his friends who were going to or had just returned from Walt Disney World. I reminded him he was there three years ago, but that carried very little street cred to a 5-year-old.

I tried steering the conversation another way.

“You know, Daddy used to work at Walt Disney World,” I said.

“Was Mommy a baby back then?”

For the record, I am older than my wife, but it is nowhere near that kind of age difference.

“No, that was before I met Mommy,” I said.

“Was I a baby then?”

“No …”

“Was Charlie a baby then?”

“No … he …”

“Daddy, where do babies come from,” said the 5-year-old who had just been talking about Mickey Mouse and Goofy.

“Well, when a mommy and daddy love each other very much they’ll have a baby. It’s important to have that because …,” I started to say before he cut me off.

“No, I mean how are they made?”

Is it time for the ‘birds and bees talk’ already?

Well, here is where our ever-expanding cul-de-sac of a conversation veered onto an on-ramp and started to rev up. My son is very detail-oriented, always wanting to know “why” and “how” things happen. I knew what he meant and thought for a moment about how to respond.

“It’s like chemistry,” I clumsily started. “Daddies have a special chemical that they combine with chemicals that mommies have — and that is what makes a baby.” As you can see, my initial foray into sex education went over swimmingly.

Right after I said that last word I knew it sounded odd and inauthentic. In my mind, I thought about telling him about how willies work with girls’ private parts, the pregnancy, doula, placenta, birth canal and epidural. But I was tired, driving and frustrated with myself for stumbling over the initial answer.

I need an off-ramp from this conversation and the closest thing was a golf range.

“Cool, check out that golf range,” I said.

“Daddy, we’ve seen that before. It’s right next to the video game place,” he said with all of the smarm and know-it-all-ness a 5-year-old could muster.

Then he went on to talk about something else.

That topic escapes me. I know that it wasn’t about reproduction. Since that trip, my wife and I have sorted out what he should call his private parts and we planned a basic overview of how to address the “where do babies come from” talk. I certainly didn’t expect to start this conversation when he was 5, though.

A friend of mine had their 6-year-old ask them what sodomy was. He was listening to the news and the child heard a new word he didn’t know. I guess my wife and I should prepare talking points for that possible query another time.

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A version of Where Babies Come From first appeared on Daddy Mojo and then on this blog in 2015. It has since been updated. Photo: ©New Africa / Adobe Stock.

This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

My wife and I were recently given two tickets to an Indianapolis Colts preseason football game. Since my wife, admittedly, pays no attention during games she told me to do whatever I wanted with the tickets. After much debate, I decided to take my oldest daughter. The Colts no longer had Peyton “Nanny” as she calls him, but she was still pumped up and excited to go.

We live just a couple of miles from the Lucas Oil Stadium, so it was a quick car ride downtown. I managed to find free street parking, too, and all I had to do was cross four lanes of traffic and cut off two cars to get it. From our parking spot, it was about a half-mile walk to the game. As we walked up to stadium, I said, “Isn’t this place big?” and my daughter replied, “No, dad, this place is humongous.”

After entering the stadium and taking the lone escalator up, we finally made it to our seats. As soon as we sat down, my daughter wanted food and something to drink from the concession stand. I was able to hold her off until the end of the first quarter.

During the game we spent a lot of time following Blue, the Colts mascot, as he wandered around the field heckling fans. We watched the cheerleaders (because SHE wanted to, of course) do their dances on the sidelines. We even watched some actual football.

And there were questions. Lots of questions.

Are the guys dressed in black and white the referees?

Why are the Colts wearing white instead of blue?

Is there an out-of-bounds line like soccer?

Why aren’t the cheerleaders wearing pants?

Where are the cameras that put the game on TV?

At the end of the first quarter, we headed to the concession stand as promised. After much agonizing over what to order, she finally came decided on a hot pretzel and Vitamin Water.

We walked around for a while, looking at the race cars and boats on display all over the stadium. We went up to look out the big window on the south side of the stadium the overlooks downtown. We spent a lot of time figuring out what downtown buildings we knew. We found several cameramen, which satisfied her question about how the game gets on TV.

As the final seconds of the first half ticked down, we decided it was time to head home. If I’ve learned one thing over the years involving children, it is to end on a positive note. Besides, it’s preseason football.

It was a perfect day with my daughter. She felt special because she got to go on an adventure without her brother and sister. I enjoyed an outing without a stroller and diaper bag.

I’m not sure the conversation we had about the cameras putting the game on TV completely sank in, though. When we got home we turned on the TV to watch the end of the game, my daughter said, “Dad, lets look for us at the game on TV.”

A version of this first appeared on Indy’s Child. Football cheerleaders photo: ©moodboard / Adobe Stock.

It’s critical for dads to have the sex talk with their children early and to get it right. It’s not OK to leave the big talk to Mom or to assume the teachers at school will take care of it. Think about it this way: the teenage brain is hard-wired to care about sex, so when you talk about it your teen will listen closely to anything you say. Don’t miss that opportunity!

I’ve noticed a few things dads get wrong when they try to have a sex talk with their teenagers. Are you making any of these common mistakes?

1. Avoiding Your Own Sex Life

It can be awkward to talk to your teenager about your own sexual history. Dads often avoid discussing their personal lives when they are having the sex talk. However, vulnerability is actually a good thing. When you share something personal it will show your teen it’s safe to open up, too. Plus, “The Talk” is better understood when you have personal advice to touch on. Don’t be afraid to discuss your first time or instances when sex wasn’t the best idea. This can be useful and highly memorable advice.

2. Skipping the Practice Run

When talking about sex, you have to be clear and specific so the lesson will stick. Nervous fathers are often too vague when addressing topics like anatomy and STDs because they don’t like going into these details with their children. This is a form of stage fright, and the best way to shake stage fright is to practice. Become very familiar and confident with awkward words and concepts. Practice saying the most awkward things over and over 100 times each before you sit down with your teen.

3. Treating it Like a One-Time Event

Chats about reproduction and sexuality should be ongoing, starting from a young age. When a father breaches the subject for the first time, he should let his child know that the door is always open. As your teen encounters new questions or ideas around sex, you want to be there to continue the conversation. Studies show that teenagers often make bad decisions when they don’t get help from a trusted adult. Checking in regularly and demystifying the taboo around sex will teach your teen that it’s OK to come to you for advice.

4. Making the Sex Talk a Surprise

Don’t spring “The Talk” on your teen. Make sure to set the tone by warning your teen about the topic before you sit down for the conversation. Without a heads-up, your teen can feel trapped or blindsided by a sudden exchange about a very personal subject. To give your teen time to prepare, try saying something like, “I’d like to talk about puberty and sex. It won’t take any longer than 30 minutes. Would you rather do it at 6 or 8?” Offering a small choice is good so your teen doesn’t feel powerless.

5. Taking Yourself Too Seriously

Yes, this talk will be awkward for both of you. But don’t deliver a stern or boring lecture. If you do, your teen will block out everything you say and disengage from the conversation. On the other hand, a little bit of lightness goes a long way. Be upbeat, make the talk pleasant, and adopt an easygoing manner so your teen knows that talking about sex is nothing they have to worry about. It’s OK to laugh at yourself and at the awkwardness of it all!

6. Waiting Too Long to Give “The Talk”

The earlier, the better. Dads today need to compete with social media, school gossip and the natural sexual urges that arise in a teenager. Messages from peers are already shaping your teen’s opinions about sex, whether you like it or not. Get ahead of the curve and be proactive by talking to your children about sex early and often. If you’re wondering whether or not it’s too early to start having sex talks, then it’s time already. Start today!

Final Thoughts

The most important thing you can do as a parent is just to talk often about sex. You’re not going to get “everything” right, but don’t worry about that. On the other hand, you’ll never get anything right if you don’t try at all.

Yes, it’s going to be awkward. Yes, your teen is going to resist. Yes, you’ll want to stop. And yes, you still have to do it. It’s that important.

Good luck!

About the author

Andy Earle is a researcher who studies parent-teen communication and adolescent risk behaviors. He is the co-founder of talkingtoteens.com and host of the Talking to Teens podcast, a free weekly talk show for parents of teenagers.

The sex talk photo: ©New Africa / Adobe Stock.

There’s no evidence of my mom or dad ever sitting me down for “the talk.”

Any knowledge of female anatomy I gained during my formative years was acquired from unseemly sources: a flickering screen in the dark of night in the basement, glossy rags stashed beneath off-season clothing, and crude classmates in the hallways of my private, all-boys high school.

If you were to develop a sex ed plan, mine would be close to the opposite of ideal.

My lack of understanding about girls, and about my own body too, was painfully obvious during my high school years … and in the years that followed. Frankly, and this is only partially a joke, I’m still not 100 percent sure I understand how everything works down, and inside of, there, there and there.

Despite a less than perfect childhood human biology lesson plan and sex talk curriculum, I was determined to approach my life as a dad of two daughters without even the slightest tinge of discomfort, fear or awkwardness about the subject matter. This determination was fueled in large part to the societal bent toward freaking the F out over:

1. having daughters grow up in general, and
2. young girls exploring their own sexuality.

Pardon my pun, but screw all of that.

Instead, I would, in partnership with my wife, work to normalize — not demonize — sex, the human body, gender identity and intimate relationships. For the most part, I’ve done exactly that, even though I unfortunately wasn’t a part of the initial sex talk with my oldest child.

Thankfully, there isn’t a singular “talk” but rather a series of open-ended, fluid conversations about sex and sexuality had over many years. I missed the first one (I was away and it came up suddenly back at home), but I’ll never again NOT be there if my daughters need me to listen, advise, or simply hold them tight.

First and foremost, they know — and I continue to remind them — that I’m always available and that no subject is off-limits, awkward or taboo. I will not recoil, cover my ears or run away from their curiosity, questions or real-life experiences. Doing so will not serve them well nor will it help me in the long term.

Additionally, my girls will know that they have a right to expect sexual reciprocation, and that sex should be pleasurable. I’ll encourage them to be safe but let them know it is OK, necessary even, to explore what feels right and good and fun for them and their partner(s).

(Because I didn’t understand the human body and because my first girlfriend probably wasn’t given a gender-balanced “talk” either, I don’t think I ever once pleased her, at least not to climax. In fact, I’m certain I did not. And she never told me that I should be taking care of her. G-Spot? Clitoris? I had no idea.)

Of course, I’m in no rush for my daughters to become sexually active. But burying my head in the cushions of our couch is not going to stop them from falling in love and acting on the emotions that will someday be stirred inside them both. The same is true in reverse: having an open dialogue about sex, love, relationships, and the symmetry of those things, will not push them to become sexually active ahead of schedule.

Luckily, there are resources like AMAZE, a collaboration between national sex education experts Advocates for Youth, Answer and Youth Tech Health, that helps kids and adults get less weird, and more educated, about sex and sexuality through fun, approachable videos.

I wasn’t a perfect lover and I’m not a perfect dad, but I know now that it’s not all about me. I know that “the talk” evolves over time, never truly stops, and that I always want to be a part of it — for my own good and for my daughters’.

Disclosure: Thanks to AMAZE for including us in this sponsored campaign. For more information on the company and content related to sex ed, health and more, you can find them at:

• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/amazeparents
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/amazeorg
• YouTube: http://youtube.com/amazeorg
• Snapchat: https://www.snapchat.com/add/amazeorg

We had a plan for “the sex talk.” That plan was to wait.

Wait until 4th grade was over. Wait until the summer break between 4th and 5th grade arrived. Wait until we could have the reproductive health, er, the talk about sex with the Bear at a leisurely pace and without any nuggets or zingers from it seeping into her classroom chit-chats or into the recess yard banter or into the cafeteria scuttlebutt. We were waiting just a little while longer to have the sex talk with our 10-year-old daughter both for us, to preserve a few more glorious weeks of blissful childhood unknowing in our oldest daughter, and for other parents too, to not have the Bear accidentally spilling the beans on the sperm + egg / penis + vagina system to her 4th grade buddies who may not be in the know. I’m nothing if not considerate.

But the gig is up.

A form came home alerting us of a special “Always Changing — About You” health class for the 4th grade. We’re talking menstrual cycles, reproductive body parts, stinky arm pits, you know, all the good shit. Well, we’re not talking about that stuff, school is, but you know, now we are. We gotta get in front of this End of Childhood School Year special, to ensure the first sex talk our daughter has is a sex talk with us, not some health teacher with Proctor & Gamble sponsored leaflets. That’s right, our school seems to have bought into some P&G program, with supplied documents littered with ads for their tampons, pads and deodorant.

New plan: divide and conquer. The Mrs. handles the icky this into that does this & that shit. I’ll tackle the commercialism bit and, okay, arm pit management too. Deal.

I’ve never been worried about this moment because of the words themselves or because of the exact information we’ll transfer to her, that her vocabulary and understanding of the world will be forever altered and expanded, and I’m not nervous about this new stage of my oldest daughter’s life. In fact, I am mildly excited about the challenge and adventure of her tween and teen years and all that comes about during those transformative periods of life. Just as I bought and folded her first pairs of underwear after she moved out of diapers eight years ago, I will be the one buying and stocking the bathroom cabinet with pads and tampons for her when that time comes. I’m totally ready for all of that.

What I am mourning right this minute is the first wall of childhood coming down. The bricks that will soon crumble are still covered in chalk and stickers. This is what’s causing the massive stream of tears to flow as I wrap up this short post. I know that this talk we must have is a line of demarcation between simplicity of youth and the complications of adulthood, and I, I just can’t stop crying about crossing over the border with her. I just can’t stop.

 A version of this post first appeared on Out with the Kids. Photo by Charles  on Unsplash.