One of the fathers has known my son for at least four years, and is the outdoorsman who regularly takes him climbing, biking and to various active events. The other father is new in his life -- the dad of one of his classmates this year. After he was at their house recently, spending time with just dad and son while the Mom was working, I picked him up and the first thing he said when he got in the car was: "I wish I had a dad."

Oooh....it's the first time he ever said that. He's seven.

I did what comes automatically. I explained that he has several good men in his life, and started naming them. Then I heard myself, took a step back, and asked him why he wishes he had a dad. "I don't know, I just do."

And I validated what he was feeling. That sometimes it will be sad to not have a dad. And suggested we should talk about it whenever he was feeling sad. And then the conversation moved on.

At our recent networking event in Boston, the women and I talked about the "daddy and donor" question. It was an inevitable topic of conversation in Philadelphia and Toronto as well. More and more Moms -- not simply Thinkers and Tryers -- are coming to the events, recognizing as their family grows that there are questions they need to answer with their kids. It almost seems simpler -- though never when you are IN it -- to worry about whether to become a mother, and how to become a mother. When you ARE a mother, there is this living, changing human being in your life who asks questions you don't know how to answer.

No matter how skilled we are in board rooms, or as entrepreneurs, or in classrooms, we are deer in the proverbial headlights when our child asks questions like, "I know about women going to sperm banks, but how do men get the sperm out?" -- as my daughter did when she was seven.

They will ask questions we stumble over answering (or, in the case of my daughter's question, deftly deflect). They will sometimes wish they had a dad. They will not always accept our male role models in their lives as a substitute.

But they will also love us, despite the fault lines.

Recently Chrissi Coppa, a single mom and writer whose son's father did not stay in their life after she became pregnant, sent me the link to her interview with actor Adrian Grenier, whose 2002 documentary project ("A Shot in the Dark") explored what it meant to him to grow up with a single mom, and his eventual "getting to know you" moments with his biological father. Here's an excerpt (the full interview is here):

CC: Your mom’s friend, Boris, seemed to play a big male role in your life and even asked if you wanted to call him dad when you were 3-what can you tell me about him and the importance of having male role models in your life?

AG: When you’re younger and starting to develop your identity you want to feel like you have that male figure taking care of you and I guess I was looking for that and ya know when you’re a kid, you don’t tiptoe around the subject. I’ve actually said, ‘Yeah, I’d love to have a dad!’ And this is what my film is about-exploring the array of male figures in my life and trying to piece together what was the cohesive male influence. There wasn’t just one. Some people have their biological dad and that’s the prominent male role model, but the ultimate goal of the film is to show there’s more than one way to have a successful upbringing and I have appreciation, respect and love for the people that did guide me positively in my life. Life is tough. You make it what you want. There’s not going to be any white picket fence in anyone’s life. That said, this film was also made to show empathy and forgiveness to my father who may have not been able to understand his absence.

What do you think? Are you ready to answer your child's questions and deal with the honest fact that sometimes they will feel badly about not having a father?