Okay, folks, I’ve hit bottom in my ability to write cogently about adolescent sexuality, about parenting, about current events, about all the topics that make this blog fun and interesting. Happily for you and me, I see the way out of this pit. It brightens up particularly well after next Wednesday, when the class I’m teaching at the University of Texas ends. The issue is really that I’m teaching for three hours a day about a topic that is not sex.
So what’s the point, really? I mean, since the topic isn’t sex?
Yesterday I twittered for the first time in some weeks: “Too much talk about education, not enough talk about sex. What can I say? Sex is just more fun than learning.” And I hold by it. I miss writing here every day, I miss my consultations with parents, I miss my parent classes.
Nevertheless, here is a lovely missive from my slightly-punchy students yesterday morning:
Girl (dating, no children): “Steven, I love you. I love your life. I want to marry you.”
Boy (single, no children): “Okay. You can raise my children for me.”
Boy2 (unknown dating status, no children): “Oh, you might want to watch out. He’s got a thing about dumping his kids on his wives and leaving them for grad school.”
Girl: “No, that’s okay. I would totally be pregnant and barefoot in his kitchen.”
Boy: “Thank you for the sentiment, but that’s really unnecessary. I mean, there’s no need for you to be barefoot.”
And the class dissolved into hysterics. Literally, several of them laughed so hard they cried. But maybe you had to be there. Or maybe you have to be exhausted from over-reading and over-analyzing every little, teeny, tiny classroom nuance. Because it really was funny at the time.
And another dialogue event from yesterday morning during a conversation on adolescent cognitive development:
Girl: “But you have to be aware of more than just the cognitive development. I mean, so much else is going on in teenagers. Like you have to know what happens when a boy gets a huge surge of testosterone…”
Now, I will admit under pressure to having made a hand-gesture…maybe more like a finger-gesture…but common…with an opening like that, how could you not. I think only one student saw my little finger-gesture, and he found it highly amusing anyway.
So now, here I am, blathering away, nauseous I’m so tired. And thanking my personal, private deity that there’s only three more full class days before I can sleep in and make waffles with my daughters. Not to mention writing better blog posts.
In the meantime, take a look-read here. I think it holds the test of time. And then come back again next week when we’ll be talking about issues like adolescent relationship abuse and “pregnancy pacts” and other whathaveyous.