I can usually handle the Leo Dies episode of West Wing until they show Margaret, silently crying. Then, I loose it.

On our way to the Produce Market tonight, Emeline asked me, "Mommy, where was I when you were a little girl?"

She must know that Parent Advisory Committee is next week.

I told her that she was always in Mommy's tummy, she was just waiting for me to tell her it was time to come out.

"I had to wait until you growed up?"

"Yep. And when I grew up, I met Daddy and we got married and wanted to have a baby. So he and I made you and you came out!"

Fortunately, that was deemed Good Enough For Now, and the subject was closed for the time being.

I'm comfortable talking to her about how babies are made and where they come from, but ... I kinda wanted to initiate the conversation. However, I am still learning that what I want as a parent and what actually happens are usually worlds apart.

Of course, being me, now I'm freaked out that I've totaly fucked this up from the get go. Which I think is a very typical parental feeling.

**I know that this conversation doesn't allow for the numerous ways that babies do, in fact, come about, but since she asked just about her, I told her her story in way that I thought she'd understand. Which, she seemed to since she just repeated it to Joe.