Friday afternoon I took a little break at work to check the local news on the internet. On the front page was a story that read, “[School District where my kids go to school] student died.” WHAT?!?

You know me. I’m not exactly the calmest person when it comes to news like this. I tend to overreact. Freak out. Hyperventilate. [Drama Queen much? Me? Never.]

The story didn’t give a lot of details. Just that the district PR rep confirmed a student had died and he couldn’t give her name, her grade, or which school she attended. So basically a student died and you get no other information.

I immediately called Keaton. I knew he’d be in the middle of class and would be at risk to get his phone taken away from him. But it was either that or drive to his school, bawling my eyes out like a crazy person, running through the school hallways screaming “Keaton” like Stanley Kowalski yelled “Stella!”

He didn’t answer.

But he called me right back. “Mom, can I come get the keys, ’cause I think I’m going to leave school now.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Well did you hear what happened?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I saw that a student died. What happened?”

We still don’t know all the details. There have been so many rumors floating around. But a girl in Keaton’s sophomore class died unexpectedly in some kind of freak accident at her home before school on Friday. She was a beautiful, talented 16-year-old girl. She played volleyball, ran track, was a wresting cheerleader, and a junior dog handler. She lived with her parents. Had an older brother. And tons of friends. And now she’s gone.

Keaton and I talked about it Friday night. I wanted to make sure he knew he could talk to me about it. That it’s ok to cry, be upset, mad or scared…or a combination of them all. We talked about how everybody found out at school. How everybody is in total shock. How just about everybody was in tears all day long. How Keaton didn’t go to 8th period…his History class where Kaitlin sat right behind his friend Dylan. We talked about emotions. Our own mortality. And somehow I kept a stoic straight face when what I really wanted to do was grab Keaton, hold on to him and never let him go.

Ever since then I give him a big hug every time I pass him the hallway, or when he comes to the kitchen for food, or when he’s asking me to drive him somewhere. Sometimes I just burst in to this room to give him a big bear hug. He’s starting to get a little irritated by it. He keeps telling me, “Ok mom. That’s enough already.” But I can’t help it.

A 16-year-old is not supposed to die. Parents are not supposed to outlive their 16-year-old daughter. Older brothers aren’t supposed to become only children. Fifteen and Sixteen year olds aren’t supposed to lose a classmate and friend. It’s just not right. It’s just not natural. It’s heart breaking.

On the way to youth group last night Keaton told me he was going to the funeral on Wednesday. The funeral will be in the concert hall at the school and the high school is letting out early so students and teachers can attend. Bringing it up again, I couldn’t keep it in. I got teary-eyed as I said, “I can’t even imagine what her parents are going through. I would be devastated if anything ever happened to you,” I sobbed.

Hug your kids. Hold them tight. Tell them you love them.

Thursday night Skyler, Spencer and Caleb were sitting at the kitchen table filling out their valentine’s for their Valentine’s Day parties on Friday. They would have done their valentine’s sooner, but I didn’t buy them until around 7pm Thursday night. You know me and my habit of procrastination.

So anyway, they were sitting at the kitchen table filling out their valentine’s and I was making myself some Kraft Shells and Cheese (’cause yum!) when a conversation ensued. A conversation that started out as an innocent talk about twins and ended with an explanation of vasectomies, sex and periods. [I'm telling you. There is a never a dull moment in the Bean household.]

Caleb was filling out a card for Spencer, a kid in his class, when it dawned on him that Spencer, a kid in his class, has the same name as Spencer, his brother. He said, “Spencer, Spencer in my class likes football too. You could be twins. ‘Cause you’re identical.” This led in to a discussion about what it meant to be an identical twin and a fraternal twin.

And then somebody asked, “Are you going to have any more babies?”

I said, “No. We’re done having babies. We’re happy with our family just the way we are. You guys are all we need.”

Spencer begged, “But can’t we have just one more baby?”

“We can’t because Dad had a vasectomy,” I blurted out before I realized just how tricky that statement would be.

“What’s a vestomy?” asked Caleb.

I paused for a second and let out a nervous giggle. “A vasectomy? That’s when they cut a little tube in daddy’s private parts so daddy can’t make babies anymore.”

“Why does that mean he can’t make babies,” Caleb questioned.

“Well,” I stumbled, “it means the semen can’t get out to fertilize the egg. Do you know what semen is?”

Three sets of eyes stared blankly back at me so I continued, “Well a woman has ovaries and each month those ovaries produce an egg that goes down the fallopian tubes in to her uterus. When she has sex with her husband he releases semen that swims up and fertilizes that egg. If the egg gets fertilized then it grows in to a baby. If it doesn’t get fertilize then a woman has her period. Do you know what a period is?”

With a look of disgust on his face, Spencer said, “Yeah, it’s when she bleeds from her private parts.”

“Something like that,” I responded.

Caleb piped in, “Mom, you said some bad words.”

“What words were those,” I asked.

“S-E-X,” Caleb spelled.

“Sex isn’t a bad word. Either is penis or vagina. They are just body parts. When you are talking about your body it’s ok to use those words. Just don’t use them as an insult. Like don’t call somebody a penis,” I informed.

Caleb said, “Yeah, like when somebody says ‘suck my dick’ that’s bad.”

“Yes it is. I don’t want to hear that at all,” I said.

We chatted a little more and I asked them them if they had any other questions. Spencer was still stuck on the vasectomy issue.

“But you can still have a baby,” Spencer said.

“I could, but I’d have to have a baby with some other guy and I would never do that,” I said.

Caleb said, “Yeah, cause that’s cheating and that’s bad.”

Skyler chirped in, “Yeah, that’s just rude.”

Spencer said, “Ah man. But I really wanted a little brother.”

“You have a little brother,” I informed him. “You have Caleb.”

“Yeah, but I wanted a baby brother,” he whined.

“Well they don’t stay little forever, you know. We aren’t having anymore. But Keaton and Justis might have a baby in a few years. In 10 years Keaton will be 25. He could get married and have a baby by then. Then you’d be an uncle.”

Then the kids were figuring out how old they would be in 10 years. Skyler & Spencer would be 20. Caleb would be 17.

“By then all of you will be moving out of the house. And I’ll be lonely,” I said.

Caleb said, “I might live with you for a long time.”

Skyler said, “I’m living with you until I find a man.”

Spencer said, “Well…I’ll come visit you.”

It’s these intimate conversations and hard questions I treasure most with my kids. When I was younger I was always so embarrassed whenever my parents would talk to me about sex. I figured it would be hard for me to talk to my own kids about it. But it’s not. I would rather my kids come to me when they have questions so I know they are getting the truth. And I’m glad they feel comfortable enough to ask me the questions that are on their minds. I hope we continue to stay this close as they move in to the teenage years.