I am not sure why we are all so reluctant to use these terms. I often hear people say things like “That word just sounds so yucky.” or “I can’t believe she said vulva while we were eating.” Those words are actually phonetically musical and lilting. If it did not already have a prescribed meaning, I would have probably named a daughter Vulva. Why are we so grossed-out by these words? People seem fine talking about other physical things. We can even talk about intimate issues of digestion more easily than approaching the subject of icky girly parts. I, for one, would rather hear about what thongs do to your vulva instead of what colon parasites do to your poop. At least while I am eating, both topics are fascinating, really.

We have come a long way with other body part acceptance, 10 years ago most people would blush a bit and use hushed tones when talking about breast feeding. Now it seems most people can actually use that particular B-word. Now we have socially acceptable tee-shirts that state “Save the Ta-Tas” and “I love Boobies!” But it took breast cancer to make it OK to say breast, for the love of God.

There seems to be some hostility and shame towards these things we have to carry around with us all the time. In fact, when we teach our children the names of their body parts, we go to great lengths to avoid this entire area – which is difficult because it happens right in the middle of our bodies. In the classic children’s body-part song, we skip most of our body so no one needs to come close to any genital talk. We say “head, shoulders, knees and toes…” Anything between the shoulders and knees – don’t even go there. Those are our “Privates”. Privates? Really? I understand teaching kids the importance of modesty and appropriate boundaries surrounding genitals – but for that to be a defining characteristic that becomes their name? That goes a little too far. If we are going to refer to genitals as “Privates”, then we should refer to our face as “Publics”. It only makes sense.

Making up goofy names for these things can get you into some trouble. I have a friend who taught her daughter to refer to her vulva as a “Peachy”. This was fine until one day when she offered her daughter a flavored water. Peach flavored. Her daughter was horrified. All I am saying is, you have got to be careful.

I have always been pretty frank and open about all things with my kids. All things. However, this can get you into some trouble too. I once got a call from a friend of mine – “Uterine liner? Really? Your four-year-old daughter just told MY four-year-old daughter that tampons are for when women shed their unneeded uterine lining because their egg did not get fertilized. UTERINE LINING KAREN? – WTF?” I responded “Well, she asked, what would you like me to tell her?” “NOTHING. Tell them nothing. Tell them it is only for grown-ups to worry about. If you have to, tell them it is blood – not UTERINE LINING!” I told her that I did not agree. Blood is scary and uterine lining was more accurate, but I am apparently the one with the problem for not giggling and getting all embarrassed about periods.

This same friend, when asked by her four-year-old where babies come from, responded “God puts them there.” When she looked over at me and saw my eyes wide and my jaw dropped, totally horrified, she asked “What? Don’t you think it is a miracle? Don’t you think it has something to do with God? Don’t you think it is sacred and Holy?” “Maybe.” I responded “I don’t know for sure about any of that – but I do know the last thing I want is for my teenage daughter to believe she has no power over whether or not she becomes pregnant.” My friend went on to tell me her daughter was only four. I realized that, but pointed out that she would still be the same person at 16, and maybe, just maybe, lying to her was a bad plan. Again, I am the one with the problem.

You have to be careful with these things and the only way around tripping over yourself is 100% honesty at all times. Anything short of that leaves you backpedaling and blushing as you try to paint yourself out of a peachy-flavored corner. Call things what they are. Answer questions as honestly as you can. If you really can’t answer – tell them that and refer them to another source. Don’t lie.

Speaking of calling things what they are – Chris Smith’s recent anti-abortion bill which attempted to redefine rape “to exclude statutory rape, date rape, drug-facilitated rape, and other instances when the woman was unconscious or otherwise unable to give consent.” What is THAT? Seriously what IS that? I understand the bill was meant to limit the way in which government could possible pay for abortions – and I usually sympathize with “pro-life” proponents, choosing to believe they have the well-being of the unborn child as their primary concern rather than the complete lack of consideration for a woman’s rights to her own body – but “pro-lifers” – you are really making it hard to sympathize with you. Really hard. When you support legislation that clearly dishonors a woman’s rights to her own body and takes away her sense of worth and dignity, I am finding it hard to keep playing devil’s advocate for you. Come on kids, is “coerced” rape any different from “forcible” rape? Are you kidding me? Let’s consult the victims and see if they feel “just a little raped”.

Rape is rape.

A vagina is a vagina.

And breasts are breasts.

There is no shame in any of this. Call things what they are and stop trying to put a “-y” on the end to make it cuter. That is just weird.

By the way, the picture at the top of this page?

It is a Vagorange. Or maybe an Orangina. But it is definitely not an Vagie-vagie woo woo or an orangey pocket thingy.