in the third grade...

This morning I was reading a magazine and it was talking about how to do the birds & the bees conversation with your kids. And then on facebook today, I read someone's post about awful that conversation was with their mother. I started thinking about my "talk" and it is a funny funny story, one full of confusion, lies, and pure humiliation that even after all these years later my best friend Hayley likes to remind me of. I'm the type of person who has no problem laughing at myself, or making fun of myself especially for things that I did as a child. So I thought that I would share the story with you......

It all started in the third grade.

I knew that babies came from sex. I knew it was something that mom's and dad's did, but I didn't know what it was. As I have mentioned before on this blog, I was raised by my grandmother since the age of 6. And when I was 7, on a Sunday while she was in front of her vanity getting ready for church, I asked my Grandma Sharon, "how do you make sex?" Yup, how do you make it.

I remember sitting on side of the bathtub when I asked her, I'm not sure why I was thinking about it? I don't remember if someone's mom was pregnant or something. But she didn't tell me right away, she told that evening. And what she told me was something along these lines:

When a man and woman get married, they kiss. And when they kiss an egg comes out of the woman's ovaries, through her fallopian tubes, and lands in her uterus where a baby grows. Then the baby stays in there until it is done growing and comes out of her vagina. 

I was so confused about all of these body parts that I had no idea what they were, and where they were located that I didn't even realize that she had completely surpassed answering my "sex" question. I was 7, I didn't know what a vagina was, I had "privates" so how could I possibly know that I had ovaries filled with eggs? I thought platypuses were the only warm blooded creatures who laid eggs.....right? So a few weeks later, I went to a BBQ with my other grandmother, Kathy at her friend Marie's house. Marie had an 8 year old grandson, Jimmy, and Jimmy  kissed me. A plain peck on the lips because his older brother Mikey told him to do it. And then our loud obnoxious Italian grandparents who thought it "cute" started in on how we were going to get married when we were older. But I was so horrified because I knew that because of that stupid kiss, I was now pregnant, at the age of 7, in the third grade. I went to school the next day, and on the playground told my friends that I was pregnant. And I told them how it happened.  I remember this girl named Monet telling me that she didn't think I was right about the whole thing. Well later on that day during recess, I did a cartwheel during and my egg fell out of my uterus and died. My grandma received so many phone calls from parents in my class wanting to know what the hell was going on and why their daughters were telling them that "Nichole Homburg was pregnant and her egg baby died on the playground today." So after that happened, I got the real sex talk. And if I had only just had the truth handed to me at first, I would have never wanted to repeat what disgusting things my grandma said happens to you when you get married to anyone, and I most certainly wouldn't have thought I was pregnant at 7 years old, in the third grade.