Car talk with my youngest daughter

A few weeks ago, my youngest daughter and I were driving home from the zoo. I mentioned that I was going out with someone on Monday night. Over the next five minutes or less, the questions from my 6-year-old were far ranging, and resulted in a downturn in my mood.

"Am I going to have a new daddy?" came first, quickly followed by questions about courtship and getting married to having babies after getting married. From there, she ventured to "Did you and Dad have a honeymoon?" We talked about that. She moved on to "Do you miss Daddy?" Finally, "Mommy, why are you sad?"

I texted a friend of mine: “It’s stunning sometimes how quickly a conversation can go south, even with a 6-year-old.” His response, after hearing what I meant, was: “She is just curious. She gets to ask. YOU have to respond better.”

But even after talking to him, I guess I still don't get how I responded poorly. I didn't get mad at her for asking. I didn't say anything negative about her father, my ex. Am I not ever allowed to express sadness in front of her that my marriage didn't work out?

I didn’t vent to her. I saved that for my adult friend. All she saw was that it made me a little sad.

I don't want her to think she can't ask questions. And I don't want her to think there weren't times that her dad and I were happy together, especially as we prepared for her to enter our life. I asked my friend again, “What did I do wrong?”

His reply: “You responded poorly because you let it upset you.”

I’m not sure I agree with that. But I’m willing to consider it. I do agree with him that there are certainly times when I respond poorly to things that happen in my life.

A few nights later, we were in the car again, this time driving to the library. (Funny how much actual conversation takes place there. Funnier still, how sensitive she can be to my mood when she can’t even see my face from the back seat.)

After hearing an NPR segment about the health benefits of breastfeeding, she was curious about that: What does that mean? Did I do that when she was a baby? Would she with her babies?

Suddenly: “Mommy, are you sad?”

“No, not at all.” And I wasn’t. There was nothing in our current conversation to make me sad. She was just supersensitive from the earlier experience.

Reassured, she went on. “When my babies are old enough for me to go back to work, I want to work at The Fresno Bee like you. When I do that, will you help take care of my babies, like Grandma does?”

“Absolutely, baby. I would love to.”