When I was pregnant with my second (18 at the time of this writing), I had a routine 5 month ultrasound, and we decided that we wanted to find out the gender. Our oldest, 3 at the time, was bouncing around the room, chanting to nobody in particular, “Do you see a penis or a vagina? Penis or vagina?” The tech looked us over with derision, sort of snorted and said, “Wow, you must be really big on penises and vaginas in your house.” I smiled politely (I’m pretty sure) but inside I was irritated. We were about to find out the gender of our baby. I’m pretty sure everyone in the room was wondering about penises and vaginas. And what was wrong with a 3 year old voicing his curiosity anyway?

I wonder if she, like so many adults, was uncomfortable with a small child using, well…. using the correct terms for body parts.

I was on a Facebook group recently, where a grown woman referred to her vulva as a “front butt.” My first thought was, “WHO SAYS THAT?” The answer, not-surprisingly, is: a lot of people. Along with wee wee and pee pee and hoo hoo and vajayjay. Of course there’s the ubiquitous “down there”, or simply one’s “area” or “parts.” And in recent news, my 11 year old just informed me that some people say, “the fold.” (Who knew?)

You wouldn’t think it would be controversial. After all, no one uses a euphemism for “elbow.” But people get weird when it comes to private parts, and I’m here to tell you, for the sake of your kids:

Get over it and use the right words. For so many reasons.

For one thing, using the correct words teaches them that there is nothing to be ashamed about, that they can openly come to us with questions or problems, and that there isn’t anything inherently wrong or dirty or bad about any of their body parts. A four year old should be able to confidently, and without shame, tell his parents that his penis hurts.

It’s also important when talking with doctors and other medical professionals, so that they can voice where they have a problem, pain or concern. And if they’re ever touched inappropriately, they’ll have the correct terms to be able to describe what happened. Some studies even say that it makes them less likely to be touched inappropriately in the first place, since abusers are more likely to shy away from kids who are confident and knowledgeable about their bodies.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk to our kids about body changes during puberty.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about sex.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about appropriate and inappropriate touch.

It makes it easier and more comfortable – for both parties – when we talk about body image and self-love.

While context is an important thing (ie: It’s okay to talk about your vagina; it’s not okay to CALL someone a vagina), the words themselves are not bad, dirty or wrong. They’re body parts. And the sooner we can get comfortable with them, the sooner our kids will be comfortable with them.

So teach your kids: Penis. Testicles. Vulva. Vagina. Labia. Clitoris. (Teach them what’s what, too!)

Please teach them the real words. If for no other reason, so they don’t turn into adults so afraid of proper terminology that they shame a 3 old for his excitement over finding out if he was going to have a brother or a sister.