I Love This Child.

The weekend came and left us, relatively unscathed. Lily happily marched through the days to her usual independent drum and I was, as always, relieved to see her living with abandon with no visible remorse for what she doesn't have. It is comforting and difficult, for me, to observe. I am overjoyed that her sunny disposition, thus far, shows no mark of loss - and while she recognizes the difference in our family composition - she doesn't yet seem pained and envious of what many other children have.
But she loves the dads.
Talks about them frequently.
Casually, as if we might meet them for a beer.
And though I brace myself for a deeper recognition to pierce her daily life more pointedly, for now, I find solace in her contentment.

But this weekend I was grateful, sad, and resentful.
Saturday morning she expertly clambered out of her crib, as I watched, eyes half open - with curiosity and concern. She did it very skillfully, teetering a bit on the rail before landing on the other side. And later we went to a barbecue where I sat for all of six minutes and spent the rest of the time ( I mean, all of it)chasing her around and pleading with her to leave the kids' rooms inside, so I could be outside with grownups. At one point I left her for a few minutes under what I thought was the watchful eyes of a friend only to hear her yelling for me gleefully from an undisclosed location. After a brief Marco Polo exchange I traced her to the neighbors yard.

Hi Mama!!!

There she was.
On her own.

Heart in mouth.
All was fine.

But those are the moments when I am insensitively reminded - shit.
I am really
on
my
own.

And -
I
am
all
she
has.

Can't get a moment of mind-at-rest.
Not sure why I bothered with the party.
I was hardly able to talk to anyone except an ex.

Joy.
And Rapture.
What's with that?!!

Come onnnnnnnn.
Please Alan, can you do something about that?!
I finally get to a few social engagements and they're who I'm stuck exchanging niceties with?

Twice now that's happened.

It's annoying.

In retrospect I guess... thank God for Lily and her wanderlust.

The car rides were nice.

But Lily the Exploradora is a handful. Life with her is exciting and draining and it would have been nice to say
Babe. Can you watch her for a few minutes?
And then on Sunday in swimming class when one mom turned to me amid splashes and water songs to tell me how proud her daughter's dad was watching from the edge, I wished I could have said the same.
And then we would have turned to wave.

Instead, I smiled.
Focused on our mermaid, who had just gone underwater TWICE.

Look at meeee!!!
She would have shouted.

And Alan would have waved and gotten a towel ready for her.