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Last summer Tali went to sleep-away camp for the first time. I knew it would happen eventually, and I was excited about it. For her. Nothing seemed appealing about not knowing where my daughter was sleeping or what she was doing all day for eight days. A year before she went I brought up the idea of her going away and she melted into sobs saying through her tears, "You mmm-ean I www-on't see you for eee-ight days?" "Never mind sweetie, " I quickly said, "there's no rush, we'll wait until you're ready." At that point I thought we were still years away. The thought of her not ever going entered my mind, but I hoped that wouldn't happen. Richard and I both loved sleep away-camp. We still talk about our respective experiences, and it has always been our dream to send our children. Camp helped us grow up. While our moms stayed up with us the night before counting out the right amount of shirts, underwear and toiletries, once we got on that

Last month my eight year old daughter, Tali and I had "the talk." I'd been waiting for her to ask me something about the topic for at least a year. Some of her friends had already been told and I wanted to make sure she heard it from me. The opportunity presented itself in an unexpected way. We were watching the Academy Awards. Tali enjoys seeing the pretty actresses in their dresses, but at this moment a clip from the movie,   "The Kids Are Alright" was on our screen. I haven't seen the movie but the plot is about a lesbian couple raising their two children. When the children become teenagers they decide they'd like to find the man who donated his sperm to their moms. In other words, their dad . In the clip being shown the biological father and son were in a car when the son asked him why he donated sperm. He made a joke about it being more fun than donating blood and then said seriously, "I'm glad I did it." I was engrossed in the sce