I'm dreading telling my 10-year-old about the facts of life. I feel like it's the end of a chapter.

“Where do babies come from?”

My son was about six when he first asked me the question many parents dread.

“Muuuuum,” he said, looking at me quizzically while chewing on his Nutri-Grain.

“Where do babies come from?”

I remember panicking internally and thinking, “What do I say? I’m not prepared for this. S**t. S**t. S**t.”

“Ah well, they grow in women’s tummies,” I replied. 

Mel's son just turned 10 and he's approaching the 'birds and the bees' conversation faster than she'd like. Image: Supplied

RELATED: How to talk to kids about staying safe

At first, he was satisfied with that answer, but the next time it came up, he wanted more information.

“Yes, but how do they get there?” he pressed, this time on the way to school while I was pinned in the driver's seat. “How are they made?”

I changed the subject, and I’ve continued to do so ever since.

My son has just turned 10 and it's getting to that point where we really need to tell him about the birds and the bees.  

Want to join the family? Sign up to our Kidspot newsletter for more stories like this.

Some of his friends know the facts of life (their parents have told us), but my husband and I keep stalling about telling him.

We've been quite protective about exposing our kids to anything sexual in movies – we usually check Common Sense Media before letting our kids watch movies or shows – but my son has asked several times about where babies come from and each time, I say it's a conversation for another day.

We know deep down that we really need to have the chat, because we want our kids to be able to come to us for honest, reliable information.

Parenting websites like the Raising Children Network tell us early conversations about sex are important, because they send the message that sex and sexuality are healthy parts of life.

And yet, we keep hesitating.

As a parent, it does feel a bit like the end of a chapter, like putting the Santa or Easter bunny story to bed. It's not so much that we feel embarrassed about telling our son about sex, it’s more that it’s a loss of innocence. 

Recently, the question came up again, this time from our six-year-old daughter at the dinner table. 

RELATED: My mate reckons the sex/consent talk with our kids has become too woke

I decided it might be a good opportunity to start by explaining ovulation, thinking my daughters might be fascinated to know they already have very small eggs (or ova) in their bodies that can make a baby.  

For context, my two-year-old hates eggs with a passion. She won’t eat them. Ever.

She began to sob.

“Mumma, I don’t WANT EGGS!” she screamed, going red in the face.

Great. Another failed attempt at sex education on my part.

Mel with her son. Image: Supplied

I don't want my son to find out in the school yard about sex or get the wrong facts. My worst nightmare is that he sees it in pornography as a teenager and thinks that is the way sex should be. 

So, these school holidays, in addition to playing putt putt and spending time at the beach, we’ll be locking in a sex education chat.

If all else fails, I’ll take my friend’s advice and buy one of those informative books, tell my son to read it, then shout out if he has questions.

Here goes nothing.

Originally published as I'm dreading telling my 10-year-old about the facts of life. I feel like it's the end of a chapter.