Is Anyone REALLY Ever Ready for This Conversation?

I pride myself in keeping my children in a bubble. We are strict with their diets, they don't watch commercial television, they don't play on our computers, and Herr and I choose their friends. Yes, I AM one of "those" mothers. Bite me. There's just one problem. For 40 hours a week, they are out of the safe and secure bubble. They are at daycare.

Simply put, daycare is the Devil's playground. These poor kids don't stand a chance at having an innocent life when there is "Libby" in Ella's class whose real name MUST be Heather because she is an evil little child who dictates who can be friends with whom and when. She also has told Ella on several occasions what she can and cannot wear. Then there is Chase, who has taught Genna such lovely words as, "Shut up," and "stupid." Ella told me just this week that Miss Rene let her try some different sodas to see which one she liked best, even though she knows she is not allowed to drink soda.

While I have tried really hard to not be a pain in the ass mother at school, I have pretty much worn out the carpet to the Director's office from the entrance because I am always bringing up something. I was the one who complained about the fact that parents leave their cars running in the parking lot and we have to breathe in the exhaust every day. I actually had to complain to the corporate office about that one. I also have complained in the past because they have lost the girls' medical information twice, and then made me hurry up and produce new copies so they wouldn't get fined by the state. I have also complained about the fact that they give virtually no notice for things like the Mother's Day Tea and the Spring party, so I am not able to change my schedule to attend. I know that the Director is counting the days until we transfer the girls to their other location that has a kindergarden in the Fall, or we move to Nashville, whichever comes first.

In all fairness to the daycare, there are some things that happen that no one can control.
Recently, Ella came home from school and informed me that she had just found out where babies came from.

"Oh, yeah? Umm, tell me what you heard."

"Well," she said, "First you need to be a grown-up. Or a teenager."

"Whaaa? Who told you a teenager could have a baby?!"

"Oh, Jade told me."

"I see," I said, as I made a mental note to have a talk with Jade's mother,"Then what happens?"

"Weeeellllllll, once you are a grown-up or teenager, you get a boyfriend, get married and then a baby shows up in your belly. I want a baby in MY belly. Do you have one in your belly right now, Mommy? You kind of look like you do."