Poo and Apple Jacks

Having a sick child is yet another one of those things that you can’t comprehend the full impact of until you actually, uh, have one. Like, five years ago someone would’ve said to me, ‘My kid was sick yesterday’, and I would’ve thought, ‘Oh, that poor kid’ and gone on my merry way. If I was feeling particularly snarky I might have also thought, ‘Well, at least you HAVE a baby’, or ‘I wish I had a little snuggly body to comfort in the middle of the night, we should all have your problems’.

HA!

Here’s what you don’t know if you haven’t been through it. A sick child does NOT mean snuggling a little person for a few hours, both of you curled up in some storybook rocking recliner, singing to the birds on your windowsill while homemade soup simmers on the stove and you gently apply cold compresses or some such shit.

Nope. Here’s a breakdown of the reality of a ‘sick child’.

Loss of sleep – I got three hours and some change Saturday night. Because she’d been up early Saturday morning, I napped. That meant I didn’t get to sleep until after midnight Saturday night. She woke up for the first time just before 4 am. I was almost back asleep at 5am when she threw up again. Same thing with 6, and then she was up for the day. Nap Sunday afternoon was interrupted by nightmare diarrhea (hers, not mine, but thanks for asking). So I was practically delusional by bedtime last night. I drugged her. No, seriously, I gave her Motrin ‘just in case’. If I didn’t get sleep before the work week started this morning I was going to be fired. Especially since I was sick all last week. Did I mention I was also sick? Yeah. Good times.

Laundry – Making a bed at 4 am blows. Facing a pile of laundry covered in vomit the next day after no sleep is worse. Multiple sheets, pillow cases, a pillow that had to finally just be thrown out, pajamas, towels, my clothes, her clothes, the couch, the blanket on the couch, my sheets, my bedspread, her bedroom carpet, the hallway carpet. Did I mention I had the misfortune to give her tacos for dinner Saturday night? Yeah. Tacos. Why couldn’t I have fed her oatmeal and brown rice? (beige carpets)

Diarrhea – Baby-sick-poo is the most gawd-awful smelling poo in the world. It also tends to blow out of diapers, resulting in even more laundry. Worse yet, it gives Jenny the most horrible diaper rash. She woke up screaming from her nap, and didn’t fully wake up – she was so hysterical she was grabbing hunks of my hair and biting them. No, really. For the last few changes yesterday I put her in the tub every single time, and she still sobbed and kicked and basically broke my heart. I have a new level of sympathy for parents who have to care for seriously ill or injured children. Causing your child pain is HORRIBLE.

Schedule – We are leaving to go out of town for Easter on Thursday, and I did not get a single thing done yesterday. No packing, no (trip) laundry, no dishes or other cleaning, no @#$% playroom painting. Nada. Zilch. Zip. I laid on the floor of several different rooms, I laid on the couch. No, wait, I did finally end up mopping the kitchen floor at 9:30 pm because I was so embarrassed that The Ta had come over to rescue us (1/4 lb-er for me, Pedialyte for Jelly) and there was taco seasoning from the night before still on the floor. And it was my WEEKEND, people! That’s not how it’s suppose to go! (whimper, self-pity, pout). We had hair appointments and were suppose to meet some family to celebrate Cousin J’s birfday, and obviously none of that happened.

The good news is that Jelly is a bouncy happy bean today. She kept down dinner last night (brown rice and Motrin, as mentioned, plus some apple sauce for good measure) and is back to her old self. And it could’ve been worse, right? It could’ve happened on a work night; I could’ve been as sick as I was last week; she could’ve been worse. It could’ve been the night before we were leaving on a 10-hour car trip.

I write this for the thinking-about-being-a-single-mom types out there. Not to scare you, because you will get plenty of that. And besides, nothing will be worse than what you come up with all on your own. I write it because lots of people will tell you in a really generic way that your life will change, and that it will be hard, and you’ll nod politely and think secretly to yourself that you have a great support system and are a really tough chick and there’s a solution for everything and all kinds of happy rainbows will shine down on you because you’ll just be so grateful to be a mother. And while I am grateful to be a mother, every single damn minute of every single damn day; this was a hard weekend. Think about scenarios like this, and what you’ll do, and how you’ll handle them. Think about who you’ll call, and who will understand, and what you’ll let go. Think about what having a sick child really means. Think about your house smelling permanently like poo, and rolling over onto Apple Jacks in the middle of the night (not that this has anything to do with Jellybean being sick, it just makes me crazy - it’s like a whole Princess and the Pea thing, I swear, they’re much worse than Cheerios). I’m not saying it’s any easier when you have a partner. And I’m not saying that other people don’t deal with much worse. I’m just saying, bad things will sneak up on you and really test you.

Take people up on their offers to help you. I’m pretty sure The Ta just automatically assumes now that when I say, ‘No thanks!’ all cheery and sunny, there’s going to be a very humble ‘Um, yes please’ following about 10-15 minutes later.

Let the unimportant stuff slide once in a while (that’s anything other than you and baby). Your house will be dirty. People will be mad at you. You’ll have lots of guilt. And, possibly, BO (maybe deodorant is not something you should let slide, although I’ll certainly look the other way if you don’t wash your hair for 3-4 days at a time).

Keep a sense of humor. It will help you, it will help baby. And it will hopefully teach baby to have a good attitude about shitty stuff as well.

Do what is best for you when you need to. Like, mixing decongestants with sangria. Sometimes that is just what has to be done, and that is ok.

You can do it, don’t get me wrong. Hey, if I can do it, any monkey with Nick Jr. and the ability to read ‘Elmo Loves You’ over and over again without retching can do it. Like I’ve said before, just be prepared to constantly doubt and re-invent yourself over and over.
Bigger, badder, stronger – that’s us.

And now, some pictures from the crappy backup camera:

A cute kid, all ready to go to the Chinese New Year celebration and get a debilitating but short-lived virus.
Say 'cheese'! Ack, camera too slow. Well, not too bad.
*Note - She loves this bus so much that she kissed it when she came downstairs this morning. Weird kid.

C'mon, camera, you can do better.
*sigh*
Well, that's a nice shot of all those lovely strangers.
Please, just try to focus on at least one thing.

Hey! There's my girl, squeezed into her little Asian-inspired jammies for the event.

Aaaaaand the ill-fated to-be-seen-again-in-a-much-less-happy-form 'Taco Night-mare'.

Thanks, camera, for getting her with her eyes closed.
That's it, I'm ordering another Easy Share.

In Like a Lion

I'm tired, hungover, and the allergies are killing me, but the blog guilt beat out everything. I had an awesome visit with my youngest sister, lost my camera, hacked the planet, and am loving this warmer weather.

I will post more about CarolinaCon after people get all their pictures online (there are going to be some doozies), but it was an awesome event and we have almost tripled attendance since the first con 6 years ago. I'm proud to be involved with such a knowledgeable and fun-to-drink-with group of people. Yes, hackers. Crazy, I know. Loud was there, which is always interesting. I managed to not ask a single question about Quiet, which I'm VERY proud of. Cousin J babysat for me, and gave me permission to stay out ALL NIGHT, so I could drink my face off and not worry about driving or waking up with the little beastie at 5am. I did have a wicked hangover that made caring for a toddler when I got home an extra-special joy, but it was totally worth it.

I broke down and made a doctor's appointment, since I'm pretty sure I've carried a sinus infection straight into allergy season. Nothing is coming close to touching the headaches and swollen face, so we'll see what Dr. Jones says. I've also got to get a prescription for generic Imitrex. My health plan charging me $200+ for everything else - FAIL. And it's nice to touch base with your doctor at least one every few years (really, I HATE going to the doctor). AND I need to ask when to get my first mammogram. I feel like it should be soon. Anyone had one?

Jelly von CrazyPants had a great time with Aunt Mare-Mare, who is the person tasked with raising said loony person if something happens to me. And we got along. For SIX WHOLE DAYS. I was happily surprised. I fight with everyone, but my sisters most of all. Well, not more than people at the gym. But yes, a lot. I think that's how it works in lots of families. Like the visit with my other sister, this one was bittersweet because it reminded me just how far away family is, and how seldom Jenny will get to see them. Also, my grandfather passed away, and I really didn't feel anything; I've seen him maybe 2-3 times max since high school, and didn't really know him. It horrifies me to think that things can get that way, and Jenny doesn't have a lot of immediate family to begin with.

The weather is alternating between unseasonably cool and ridiculously warm, which is making me nuts. We had a fun playdate with my CSM group yesterday and checked out a new park. Turtles! Ducks! Donuts! I took a sparse 3 pictures since I'm angry at my backup camera. The one of the turtles didn't turn out at all. Stupid camera. Stupid me.

*Backstory - When I was about 6 weeks from having JR I broke my camera, a Nikon Coolpix. I sent it off to be fixed, but then panicked that I wouldn't have a camera for the labor (ha ha! like I cared about that during labor. Ah, moms-to-be are funny). So I used AMEX points to get a new camera, and went with a Kodak EasyShare since I wasn't too crazy about the Nikon. I totally fell in love with the Kodak. When my sister was visiting, I lost it. I have a really bad feeling I set it on top of the car and drove off. I have torn the garage and house apart several times looking for it to no avail. While it was nice to have the crappy fixed Nikon handy to use, I am bitter and resentful. I miss my Kodak. I looked it up and it's like $200 to replace. I can't justify that when I have a perfectly good camera. Le sigh.

Jenny gets crazier and crazier. Toddlers, man. Saturday she woke up at 5am and was so grumpy that she lost her temper over something stupid and BIT me. On the freaking shoulder blade. I almost cried, I was so hurt and tired and shocked. Weekdays? I have to wake her up for daycare. ARGH. She is growing like crazy still, the eating is all erratic, and she flies off the handle over nothing CONSTANTLY. She is completely uninterested in potty training, throws things, and has mastered the 'I will come when I'm damn good and ready' attitude. On the cute side, she's suddenly very interested in birthdays (sings 'hap to you' over and over, only wants to read books that have pictures of cake and balloons and presents) and can count to 10! She can do up to 5 totally unassisted, which is hilarious, and to 15 with some prodding. She also knows most of her colors (didn't even realize she knew 'green' til yesterday - thanks, Spring). And I think Easter is going to be really, really fun.

More to come soon.

Time for Play

I realize I didn't post about the trip to Halifax, but that's partially because it was so bittersweet (soooo much fun but way too short a visit, so awesome to see my niece and nephew but so sad how much I've missed and how long it will be til I see them again), and partially because the trip home was so awful. No, really, it was awful. If I'm not going on and on complaining about it in painful detail to get laughs and sympathy, you have some idea just how bad. But yes, it was a great visit and we got to see an aunt and an uncle and some cousins and some grandparents, and Jelly had a blast. Unfortunately my sister has an awesome basement playroom in her house, which Jenny adored. And it got me to thinking, 'hmm, if I had a playroom I would be able to get her a train table for her birthday, and she would go out of her mind with happiness and maybe she'd go in there at 5:30 am instead of harranguing me'. Then I thought, 'hmm, I would also be able to get 56,234 Dora, Diego and Weeble toys out of my dining room'. Then I stopped thinking because I realized I was already sold on the idea and just had to figure out logistics. I was trying to keep the whole project a secret, but a video call with my parents last night blew that. They were all like, 'Uh, what room are you in?' and I was like, 'Shit! Jenny, don't say 'shit''.

I bought a 4-bedroom house when I moved two years ago, 7 months pregnant. I knew I needed a bedroom for me, and one for the baby. I also needed a dedicated home office space, and a guest room for the constant houseguests that were going to be staying with me round-the-clock for the next 10 years to help with the baby (hahahahahaha). Here I sit, two years later, with a guest room that only sees guests once or twice per year, and I'm working from my living room couch. Yes, I know it's bad for my back, I don't care, it's closer to the Girl Scout cookies.

So I decided to combine the home office and guest room into one seldom-used room, which meant that I opened up the other bedroom for a 2nd-floor play area, right across the hall from Jelly's bedroom. The best part is, there's an enormous closet, and I have managed to find homes for all the various useless items that were stored in there (a box full of ball caps, a bazillion cassette mix tapes that I can't seem to part with, a steering wheel cover, a 'Dogs Playing Poker' throw pillow - you get the idea). So I am going to make the closet a little play kitchen off the playroom! How cute is THAT?! Her two big birthday presents are the aforementioned train table and a kitchen center, so the kitchen and a little table/chairs will fit in there nicely. I'll make some sort of curtain-type thing to hang from the shelf above. I could faint, I love this idea so much. Also, I found a train table at my local consignment store for $58 with most of a set of train-y stuff (the Imaginarium Light & Sound Railroad, for those of you who are forced to care about these sorts of things), and talked to Customer Service yesterday to get replacements for the pieces that were missing for about $20. So that totally rocked. And it's stored in my garage for two months now, blergh.

The other crazy thing I decided to do was a mural. I can say with a great deal of modesty that I have done professional (PAID!) mural work in the past, for a few different places. I loved it. Don't get me wrong, I couldn't do it for a living because people make me crazy and I can't deal wtih criticism. But it's a great creative outlet when you don't really have anything else like that going on. Work right now is just so crappy, I thought, 'hmm, I've done murals for other people (my parent's house, my friend's house, daycares) but never one for me - maybe it's time?' (yes, I do seem to have a lot of thoughts in this post, I hope that isn't irritating you).

I struggled and lay awake and agonized over what to do, and this is what I've come up with;

An 'outdoor' theme, combining elements of quiet contemplation (reading corner 'garden'), activity (train station), and imagination (see 'fairy door', below). I'll have to sketch it out and scan it in for all y'all. It's great in my head.

The factors involved in my decision included age and gender neutrality, resale of the house, existing layout, level of effort, and copywright law. No Disney, no Diego. No pink, no huge holes in the walls. Plus, I wasn't allowed to do a whole room of dragons and fairies, because that would have been for me, not Jellybean. My compromise on this is to do a 'fairy door' in a painted tree on one wall, which is kind of cute in a subtle, not sad-omg-is-she-really-almost-40-no -wonder-she's-single kind of way.

The only problem is...

I still have

a

toddler.

Want to know the good thing about painting with a toddler? THERE ISN'T ANYTHING GOOD ABOUT PAINTING WITH A TODDLER. They try to run circles in the room and step in the paint. They lick the brushes. They bang rollers on the walls. They are irritated you are ignoring them. They scream, 'Help, help help!' but only want to climb on the ladder. It's madness. I will only be able to paint on weekends when/if she naps, or after she's gone to bed. *sigh*

At this rate I'll be done in another two years.

Jenny is primed and ready to go:

Time for Work

Half-awake in the early hours of this chilly March morning, a very familiar tune managed to seep through my sleep-deprived haze. Anyone familiar with toddler television probably shares my intense hatred of a certain moose and bird, more or less depending on the exact time they first greet me upon waking. The start of a new month meant the start of a new monthly theme, yet this one was oddly familiar. With a shock I realized it had been one full year that I’d done this exact routine.

We’re going on a trip.

A year ago Jenny couldn’t walk, couldn’t talk. A year ago I thought I knew Jenny, but she was only just starting to be Jenny.

The baby is awake. Get her out of her crib. Change her diaper. Get her a bottle. Pull her into bed with me.

There are times when the routine is comforting, when monotony is welcomed.

Pay the sitter on Monday. Put the garbage out on Thursday.

It means I don’t have to think as much, just go through the motions. My brain remembers the familiar patterns, helps push me along.

Get gas on Monday. Get paid every other Thursday.

Then there are times when the seemingly endless unchanging stream of drudgery makes me want to scream. No, makes me want to cry, silently and under my covers, hiding from the world and its expectations of me.

Make breakfast. Unload the dishwasher. Dress the baby. Put in a load of laundry.

But to hear that it’s been a year – that is astounding to me. Not that it’s been a year that I’ve had this person in my life

Newborn/baby/toddler

but that it’s been a whole year that I’ve done these things. That there was time before that when I did something different. That there will be time after this when things change again. One day plus one day plus one day.

Make breakfast. Dress the toddler. Read a story. Take her to daycare.

March means that in two more months, I wlll have a two-year old. Twenty-four months of Jellylbean.

Months of cuddles, months of worry, months of exhaustion, months of motherhood.

It’s been a rough few days. She’s been waking up at 5:30 or earlier for almost a week straight. It’s made me think about how I did this, two years ago. Taking naps over my lunch break, going to bed at 8 pm. If someone asked me how I did it that first year, I wouldn’t be able to answer. The reality of being a mother is that you just do. You give in and start buying Red Bull by the case. You get better at accepting your limitations. You struggle each and every day, doubting yourself at practically every turn, agonizing over each decision you make. But you keep on getting out of bed every single morning, and putting a smile on your face for the person who is happiest to see you out of everyone in the whole world.

It's 3 am. Is she going to wake up at 5:30 again? 5 am. Is she going to wake up at 5:30 again? 5:25 am. The sound of little feet padding down the hall makes me want to throw up.

I have to go to the corporate office next week. My last trip was booked March 25 2009. I can’t believe it’s been so long. I can’t believe how much has changed.

How much Jelly has changed. How much I've changed.

The trip is going to be a long week, Sunday afternoon until late Friday night. I’m worried about her, this kid who stands outside the shower door howling because we’re separated for that handful of minutes. I haven’t been a good mother these last few days, and that makes the guilt that much worse. I’ve been tired and impatient and short-tempered. I’ve snapped at her and slapped at her and thrown things and acted like, well, a two-year old. I feel bad because it will be a welcome break, the week away. Sleeping til at least 7 in a bed I don’t have to make, while someone else deals with the tantrums and the stubbornness and the lack of naps.

Jellybean girl, I miss you already. I’ll always come back, I hope you know that. I’ll always be thinking about you. I love you more than I ever dreamt possible.

A new day.

I’ll do better, I promise. And when I fail that, know that I love you no matter what.

A new month.

We can do it. We're mama and Jelly, and we have plenty of time to figure this out.

Time for work.

I Sometimes Have Problems Finishing Thi

I love to write, and I love an audience, and this combined with my hatred and avoidance of my job should mean that I would post to my blog hourly. However, life gets in the way. By this I mean I am distracted by my Farmville crops and finding something for lunch that isn’t a boring sammich and reading other people’s blogs. Then I feel all guilty, because I realize how entertained I am by everyone else, and I am not pulling my weight.

I don’t really have too many problems finishing things; I might procrastinate, but I do like to see a project to its close. There are maybe 2-3 projects that I can think of that hang over me (DAMN SCRAPBOOK), like the box of sewing stuff to make a little rag dolly for Jelly and (SCRAPBOOK! I SHAKE MY FIST ANGRILY AT YOU!) cleaning out my closet. That’s not to say I can stay focused and avoid distraction, no siree. That’s how my socks ended up smelling like corned beef. I was cleaning up from dinner and Jellybean spilled a little cup of milk. 3 tablespoons of milk, and she was drenched from head to toe, I had to re-mop the floor, and 17 towels were soaked. So I stopped what I was doing, which was cutting up corned beef to put in the freezer, and ran everything upstairs. I noticed there was clean stuff in the washer, so naturally I threw it all in the dryer. Hence the corned-beef socks. But that’s what you’ve got to do when you’re a busy mom, single or otherwise. You always have to be paying attention to the next thing that needs to be done, otherwise you will be buried. So I do try to get crap done.

That being said, I have a kajillion half-started blog posts at any given moment. Some are scribbled as thoughts on paper, some are neatly typed in MS Word, some are jumbles of funny subject titles and anecdotes in my head. I want to write about the joys of completing my taxes and all the wild fantasies I’ve entertained about what to do with the money I’m getting back, even though I know the reality is I will fritter some away, and use some towards credit card debt, and blow the rest on unnecessary cute clothes for The Bean. I want to write about the challenges of a toddler, and how I feel like I’m doing everything wrong all of a sudden, when I’d been so confident (mostly) up til now. I’ve got excitement to share about an upcoming visit from my youngest sister M, and our trip to Halifax in ONE WEEK. So here, for your enjoyment, are two ‘half posts’. Started with good intentions, like so many things, but leaving something to be desired.

Mine
When you’re considering having a baby, people like to tell you that it will change your life. No duh. You totally know this, even if you’re one of those stupid arrogant spoiled teens on the MTV reality show, ‘Teen Mom’. Not that I would ever watch garbage like that. And can you believe Farrah’s mom totally hit her?! Awesome. Anyhow. Yes, so you know that it will change your life, blah blah blah. You know you’re never going to get the sleep you want again until you’re so old that you can’t. You know that your time will never be your own again, even time you really don’t want to share, like when you would just like five freaking seconds of privacy in the bathroom instead of playing ‘peek-a-boo’ or ‘that’s called a maxi pad, I’ll explain more when you’re older, I should probably stop referring to it as ‘mama’s diaper’ because that’s just going to be very confusing during potty training’. You know that you’ll have to make sacrifices, and someone else will always come first.
However.
As a single lady, one of the things I really didn’t fully understand about this little person coming into my life was just how fully my life would not be my own anymore. You married women, you kinda hafta get use to it; you share a bathroom, hopefully someone else helps you with either making dinner or cleaning up, and there’s always another presence in your bed. Us wild ‘n crazy carefree gals don’t have to worry about things mysteriously disappearing in our homes – we put something down, it stays down (not always a good thing). We stretch out in bed. Our toothbrush is never touched by someone else’s grody cooties.
I will be the first to admit that I like things a certain way. I like things to be in a certain place. Jenny’s closet is organized by item (example; short–sleeved shirts all together, then long-sleeved, then sweaters), then color, then pattern. Except for playclothes, which are hung separately in outfits for ease of dressing when I’m mostly still asleep. I have never put socks on her that don’t match her outfit, even when we’re snowed in at home for 3 days. Some people might call it ‘compulsive’. Those people are totally accurate. Having another person in the house means that things aren’t going to be how you want them again for a long, long time.
[then I was going to write some more stuff about how I'm thinking about rearranging my kitchen to make it more kid-friendly, but how irritating that will be, and how when I leave an area of the house I have to do a total sweep to make sure it's Jenny-friendly]

Things I Failed At Yesterday [day before yesterday]
• Utilizing ‘time out’ successfully
• Keeping my patience
• Providing a healthy, nourishing dinner
• Remembering to never, EVER take a toddler shopping after a long day with a caregiver
• Saying ‘no’ to M&Ms
• Finding the @#$!&% tapir in the car
• Attempting to rationalize with a very, very young person

Things I Succeeded At Yesterday
• Finding the @#$!&% Swiper that was dropped out of the car into the snowbank
• Ending the day on a happy, mama-and-kid-in-the-tub-together note, totally destroying all my walls in the process (who knew water could even splash that high?)
• Buying toilet paper

[was going to write some stuff about how sorry you should all feel for me because my sweet, easy-going happy Jellybean had turned into The Debil; she's in full-on testing mode, and I am still so startled by the obstinacy that I am at a total loss]

Also, yesterday I signed her up for 2-day fall preschool. OMG she's going to love it. We went and toured the church (yes, you heard that correctly), and it's great. The classrooms are terrific, friendly and bright and welcoming (and lots of 'Dora' stuff, I noticed), they have a huge outdoor playground that is enclosed, and the best part is a MASSIVE gym, for rainy-day play. And the teachers are VERY sweet, and highly recommended by Miss D, who use to work there. Plus it's like, a dollar. $125/month. Yay!
Have a great weekend, everyone, and fingers crossed that we don't get snowed in tomorrow again and lose our freaking minds.

My Review of Add-A-Size Garment Extender 10-Pack

Originally submitted at One Step Ahead

S-t-r-e-t-c-h the lifespan of more of baby's one-piece outfits! Unlike others, our garment extender set not only works with Carter's® and Onesies®, but GAP®, Old Navy®, and many other popular brands. You get more, too: includes two each of five different snap styles. Im...

Add-A-Size Garment Extender 10-Pack

Totally worth it

By Jellybean Mama from Raleigh, NC on 2/2/2010

 

5out of 5

Gift: No

Pros: Easy To Put On, Lightweight, Breathable, Soft, Strong Seams

Best Uses: Activewear, Layering, Cold Weather, Travel, Everyday Wear, Sleeptime

Describe Yourself: Parent of Two or More Children, First Time Parent, Parent of Multiples (Twins etc)

I've heard that extenders use to be a lot more expensive that this, and I think you get a lot for the money. You receive multiple sizes, which ensures that you should find something that works with whatever style onesies your child wears. I've used them with Gerber, Old Navy, Gymboree, and Carter's so far. I have a 20-month old who wears 24 mo/2T sizes, so it's tough to find onesies that still fit around a diaper. I've also had a lot of problems with poor fit rubbing her legs. The extenders solved my problems. Soft, washable, and a good size. Great for daytime play or nighttime layering.

(legalese)

Off the Ledge

Man, are you guys ever awesome.

No, seriously.

That was some great advice there, ladies, from each and every one of you (plus The Ta, who called me and said CALM THE HELL DOWN THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A PERFECT FATHER ANYHOW, and also, 'Give me a warning the next time your post is so serious because I only read it for the Jelly pics and the comedy'. Which is totally fair and totally true. Even if I had a partner, who's to say he wouldn't be a jerk in some way? And no, I don't have to deal with it like NOW, and it's not like Jellybean will need all the answers right away even when she is old enough to start asking questions. And I'll probably screw some stuff up, but I'll do my best, and that's all we can do, just like everything else.

So I guess the answer is to take it one step at a time, be as truthful and heartfelt as I can, and ensure that she knows she's wildly and WIDELY adored throughout the whole thing. Cause that girl has some FANS! And if Quiet doesn't want to be a part of her life, well, that's sad but that's better than some horrible custody situation or an abusive relationship, and I'll just be very matter-of-fact about it like many of you suggested. And who knows, maybe I'll meet someone (hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha) and it won't even be an issue.

And good luck to everyone else going through something similar, or thinking about going through something similar. Especially the thinkers. Don't be discouraged by my occasional mental barfs. The positives of having Jelly in my life far outweigh any concerns or issues (except for the sleep, because really, 5:45 am for the past week?! REALLY?!). Right now we are waiting for ice to melt so that we can get to the caregiver's house, and watching Diego (penguin episode), and she just threw herself to the floor going, 'Honk, honk!' and doing the worm because the penguins were sliding. You just can't buy hilarity like that.

I guess we all have more in common than I thought - the thinkers, the tryers, the single moms, the married moms. We all worry, we all hope for the best but plan for the worst, and we all can understand each other's fears. Even though we may have different situations or be at different places in our lives, we all put ourselves through torment over something like this;

Tapir says hi, too. And no, that's not something coming out of her head, it's my patio umbrella that I definitely should have taken in a zillion years ago. But who's got time for THAT?!