Two little girls, age 2 and 4, are having a bath. Their mother, a doctor, is asking them to wash themselves. “Who is going to wash her face?” she asks. “Me,” “Me”, they shout at once, giggling.

There is a bit of splashing, Then the mother continues, “And who is going to wash her vulva?” “Me,” “Me,” they again shout at once, again giggling.

Did your eyebrows go up? Mine did. And then they went down again. I think she was right.

It takes a bit of thinking about.

And where did I hear this exchange? On BBC Radio 4, on a series of programmes entitled “Inside Health,” with this section brazenly called “The vulva,” played on a Wednesday afternoon.

Body Part Names for Men

We grow up and are told various names for the lower end of our bodies.

Words for the male body are easy, perhaps because they are readily visible. You can use the formal words – penis and testicles – and many people do.

You might not talk about these things at the Queen’s Garden Party, but otherwise they are considered reasonable words with no overtones of impropriety.

There is also a friendly child’s term for the penis in England – and perhaps other parts of the world – the ‘willy’. It has an endearing quality and is not considered impolite, except in the most formal circumstances. Some men use it, too, but rarely in a sexual context.

And, of course, there are a lot of slang words for both, which you don’t learn at school and we don’t need to worry about here.

Body Part Names for Women

But for us women, it is much more complicated. There have always been issues around what we call our various body parts in the lower region.

And much more of a frisson when we say them out loud.

Somewhere along the line, we learn we have a vagina, often contrasted to the penis, and it is also seen as a respectable term.

And at school, we tend to be shown pictures of the inside reproductive parts, so we know about the ovaries, the fallopian tubes and the uterus (or womb) – and even the vagina in this context.

But what about the rest of our equipment? Who teaches us that we have a vulva or a mons pubis or labia majora and minora (which sound like some distant part of Turkey).

No one teaches us, we cannot see them and we remain remarkably ignorant. Indeed, we often know the names for the more detailed parts of our eyes better than we do of our female parts.

And then there are the inevitable euphemisms. My mother told me I had a ‘front bottom’ and a ‘back bottom’ and left it at that. I never learned anything more in that department from her.

When I had my daughter in 1969, the nurses informed me that I had a ‘front passage’, a ‘back passage’ and a ‘birth canal’. I had a slight jolt, but I worked it all out.

(If I may digress, I also learned that babies ‘passed motions’, but at the same time – remember it was a period of student protests – the students at my husband’s university were busy ‘making motions’. Or it may have been the other way around. The two concepts have been forever mixed up in my head since that time.)

Again, I am not getting into the business of slang. You could write a book about that.

The Power of Words

So why are we shocked when a mother teaches her young children to use the correct word for that part between the legs?

You just don’t hear the word very often and it sounds, well, too strong, too technical or perhaps too much ‘off colour’.

Is the word ‘vulva’ seen as vulgar because it starts with the same three letters? What if, instead, we associated it with a Swedish car? It already sounds a lot more friendly.

But you may say, it is not ‘nice’ because it is associated with sex. But so is the penis and it does not have the same power said out loud.

There is certainly nothing shameful about the vulva – or, indeed, any part of the body. The vulva and the associated bits and pieces are simply parts of the female anatomy. Every female has them, from the new-born baby to the 90-year-old woman and beyond.

On reflection, it can only be right for mothers to teach their children the right words and to not be embarrassed by any part of their body. This goes for boys as well as girls, so we all know all the anatomical terms.

And, I might add, that is only when writing this article that I learned that the vulva includes all the ‘bits and pieces’, including the clitoris, – I had always thought it was just the part you could see from the outside.

Never too late to learn.

A version of this article was first published by SixtyandMe.com

“How did we do?”

How often do you see this question in your email box?

In the last week, I have received emails from my optician and from a delivery service asking me to review their performance as deliverers of a service.

Not to mention from an online company that sells health related products asking for my views about the product I had bought.

It makes me want to scream!

Being Asked Our Views

It seems to be all the rage to use the convenience of email to ask our opinion on all sorts of goods and services. Occasionally, there is a small inducement, such as the chance (one in a million?) to win some valuable prize, but usually there is nothing.

You are asked to give a number of stars out of five. And, before you know it, you are asked why you gave this assessment. It all takes time with no payoff to yourself.

And it is very irritating. You had needed to buy something, and you went to a bit of trouble to decide what to buy and where. You made your decision, and it has come. Surely, this is the end of the matter.

As a former researcher (although not of this kind), I have tended to feel it is my duty to respond if asked. And I used to do so faithfully.

But it is becoming much too frequent. My patience is being tried. The simple solution, of course, is to delete the email. Problem solved.

Until the next one.

Book Reviews

But there is a different problem.

I write books. And we authors need good reviews in order to sell our books. Lots of reviews, the more the better. Otherwise, no one will be willing to buy.

Some well-known writers get every new book reviewed, often in prominent places. They are lucky, but they are a minority. Most of us struggle to get reviews whether from someone famous (or a fellow writer) or simply ordinary readers.

The more successful writers and their publishers use all sorts of means to engender reviews, most of which cost considerable sums of money. The rest of us simply ask at the back of a book for readers to put a review somewhere that it will be seen, such as on Amazon.

We don’t like doing it, but every bit helps. We hope that it doesn’t annoy readers too much.

And, to be fair, we are not large companies seeking to improve our market status by declaring that x percent of our users found us wonderful.

We are simply individuals, who have spent large amounts of time and effort to create a book, which may – in the absence of any review – end up languishing unread.

Each review makes a difference to the potential reader wondering what to buy next.

And equally importantly, it provides the most wonderful boost to the writer him or herself. We all know our best reviews off by heart.

Some years ago, Sir Ian McKellen said of one of my books, “As powerful as any great classic of fiction.” My heart swelled.

Much more recently, my latest book has received numerous positive comments, “a lovely, lovely book”, “original and perceptive”, “extremely well written.” My favourite came from a fellow writer who I do not know: “I loved your book”, she said, “Never stop writing.”

So, next time you read a book and like it, do think about it. A good review will really help to sell it to more people.

And it may just make the writer’s day.

This article was first published by SixtyandMe.com

I was chatting to one of my grandsons, aged 12. He has just started at a new secondary school, which ­– in contrast to two previous schools he attended ­– is roughly five minutes’ walk from his house.

After asking about his new friends, new teachers and what he is learning, I commented, “And isn’t it nice that it is so close! For once, you don’t have a long trip to get there.”

“Well, yes,” he answered immediately and then stopped. “But I did really like the long walk to the bus for my last school – both going out and coming back. It was a nice time to think. I miss it sometimes.”

That was a surprise. To actually value the time it takes to travel from one place to another.

And then I thought, yes, he is on to something.

What’s special about travel time?

Travel time is that wonderful time when you have no obligations except to continue on your way. It is ‘me’ time in the best sense of the word.

At its worst, of course, it is terrible. There is the regular commute ­– that dreaded routine of getting into the car and down to the station or catching the bus and then the train. At rush hour – too many people, often no chance to sit down.

In fact, we did whatever we could to avoid the emptiness of that time by filling it with something useful. Audiotapes in the car, books and newspapers on the train. Anything to help us to get through to the next stage of our lives.

No one can miss that.

Yet at its best, travel time is a bit of space to think your thoughts, smile quietly about some memory or simply empty your mind. Time when you don’t have to present yourself to others as you want to be seen. Time when you don’t have to respond to others in any way. Time simply to be yourself.

Travel time also gives you a short break between what you do here and what you do there. From being the child at breakfast to being the pupil at school. From being the mother in the house to being the busy nurse at the hospital. And so forth.

These are not small changes in your persona. The travel time gives you the chance to adjust yourself, to prepare for the oncoming role.

But We All Have Plenty of Alone Time

Ah, you say, but surely, we all have plenty of time to ourselves. We don’t have to be on our way somewhere in order to enjoy being on our own.

Well, yes and no. For many of us, our home is full of other people – whether siblings or partners or extended family or all sorts of other people who come and go. These people tend to intrude on us in one way or another, sometimes good, sometimes less so.

It is very hard to forget they are there.

If you go out of the room, you are likely to be pressed to do something. As a child, to get on with your homework or piano practice or even come chat when you are not necessarily in the mood. As an adult, to make the lunch or fix something or, again, to chat when you are not necessarily in the mood.

Or it may well be something pleasurable: “Come see this interesting programme on the TV,” “Come taste this pudding I am making for dinner.”

Nonetheless, it intrudes on those quiet inner moments.

True Alone Time

And even when we find ourselves completely alone, we are pulled in many different directions. For those with an inbuilt sense of duty, there is the correspondence to be answered or the bills to be paid or even the plants to be watered.

For those who are easily swayed by the things they enjoy, there is that programme taped from last night’s TV, that book you are enjoying or even a simple lie-down on that very comfortable looking bed.

Always diversions in another direction.

This is even more so if you work from home, as I did for many years before it became fashionable, because I was self-employed. When people discussed how they got to work, I always said I went to work by the stairs.

And go to work I did. Sat down at my desk and got on with things until I was too tired to continue. No time to stare at the walk and think.

In principle, I could have done what I wanted with my time, but I inherently felt that work came first.

Back to Travel Time

Which brings me back to travel time. For those of us who like to reflect, it can be the perfect time to do so. Whether walking a distance, driving or sitting on a bus or train, we are – in our minds – on our own, away, far away.

Sometimes, that is a nice place to be.

It all starts with a baby. A sweet helpless and very loved bundle of not-yet-known-but-absolutely-expected joy. You held that baby and felt the excitement of a new human presence in your life. A grandchild!

Perhaps this feels not that long ago.

And then that baby began to develop. He or she began to crawl and then stand up and toddle (if that is the word for what a toddler does).

And talk. And become a person with a personality, interests, a strength of will – and all the time bringing even more love into your life.

That adorable child grew some more, and, with luck, you had a lot of fun in the park or just talking and teaching him or her all sorts of things about the world.

It was delightful. You re-lived the pleasures of having small children in the house. Each week – or even each day – you heard about what they were doing, their ups and downs, their development.

I found this stage so interesting that I wrote a whole book about it.

Well, you know the rest.

There was more growing – and before you could say “sweet-sixteen-and-never-been-kissed,” you found yourself with a teenager.

Perhaps more than one.

The Teenage Years

Teenagers can be adorable. They can be easy-going, cooperative, easy to please and always polite.

But they aren’t usually any of these things.

It happens slowly. You first learn about the problems from one of their parents ­– your son or daughter.

They tell you about the grumpiness, the talking back, the contrariness, the confusions. Ah yes, you think, I remember it well. Only the last time, it was your own child, perhaps the very person telling you about it all. Or a sibling.

You are much more sympathetic now. You reassure them that it is just a stage – an annoying one, of course, but it won’t last.

And then the grandchild in question visits you. That eager nine- or 10-year-old is suddenly taller than you, scruffily dressed and altogether awkward.

If it is a boy, there are signs of a growing moustache. If it is a girl, there is probably some make-up.

It feels like another person altogether, albeit with some familiarity. You know this person, but you don’t know him or her so well. There are definitely changes.

You need to find new ways of relating to them.

The Good News

Well, you may remember dealing with teenage offspring with less than positive thoughts, but in fact it is entirely different with grandchildren.

Their need to expand, to argue, to find themselves through a constant contrariness does not extend to you. These attitudes are primarily directed to their parents – and sometimes their teachers.

You are the good guy, the port in the storm – and they have no wish to lose your favour. They come to you to display their new achievements with pride, while being cossetted at the same time.

In other words, your home is the place to relax from all the pressures elsewhere.

And, therefore, relating to them is not so hard at all. You may not like their hair. Or the nose stud or worse.

Or the sloppy way of talking – perhaps too quiet, perhaps too loud. Or the words you don’t have a clue what they mean.

But if you can overlook these matters as a temporary aberration, you will find the same loving children underneath. They may even become more polite to you.

And Even Better News

And unless you are very unlucky, you may see the growing signs of the adults they are to become. Their personalities are becoming clearer, emerging from the slightly blurry images from their childhood into much more delineated pictures.

Such personalities may be of any type, of course. Perhaps he or she is funny. Perhaps they are athletic. Or musical. Or academic. Or withdrawn, which is always difficult.

They may be becoming interested in some issues, and you can talk about them. Perhaps they like movies and you can talk about that. Or politics. Or something else altogether.

It can be really interesting to see these different personalities and interests at their formative stage. You may even be able to help them somehow.

Perhaps he likes to cook – you could show him a new recipe. Or she likes to sew – you can show her a new stitch. Or they have some fascination or other. You might know someone who could talk to them about it.

That is the beginning of a long-term friendship with a growing adult. And it is that adult that they have been building up to all the time.

A real pleasure.

This article was first published by SixtyandMe.com