You can't really say "Happy Memorial Day," so I'll just say that if you're a US-ian, I hope you had a good holiday, and spent at least a moment remembering those who have died in our defense.
So many new things lately-- we have clapping, a couple of (inconsistently used) words, feeding herself (as long as it's not cold, wet, slimy, or any combination thereof), and she will now pull herself up to a sitting position by holding on to your hand(s). It's just a matter of time until she figures out she can pull herself up on inanimate objects.
Still no crawling or walking, and little interest in standing, but I did get her evaluated (yeah, I'm paranoid) and the therapist wasn't particularly worried. She thinks it's more a function of lack of interest than it is a physical issue. Given that Elle is a little late on every curve, no one's particularly concerned yet. I keep working with her, and am pretty sure I'll soon regret the day I wished she was mobile.
We went to our first parade on Memorial Day. It was a gorgeous day, and we found a spot of shade to settle in on a beach towel, with sippy cups and Cheeri0s.
It was a big, big hit. Anything with lots of people and music and noise? Sign Elle right up. I was a little worried about the sirens from the police and fire vehicles, but she didn't even blink. She adored the marching bands (she booty-danced along with them), clapped occasionally, chewed on a paper fan that one of the floats threw out, and waved a little flag with more skill and enthusiasm than I expected. (And she didn't try to eat the flag, so that's a definite win.) She's so social and, frankly, nosy that this was an event practically tailored to her interests.
When you think of it, parades are really meant for the kids, and my kid was a happy target audience.
My parents were in town for the holiday, which was nice for a number of reasons. Elle loves the company, and I like the flexibility to be able to do things without having to worry quite as much about what I'll do with the baby. I even got to go to a barbecue-- which was fun, but honestly? I missed Elle.
I know! Time to do grown-up stuff like drink delicious gin and tonics and munch on spicy guac, and I kind of wished I could go home and play with Elle instead. (I did get home in time to take her for a nice walk.)
There's been a bit of a dust-up on one of my single mom discussion lists relative to messages on how tiring it is to be a single parent. And it is. It's exhausting. It's terrifying most of the time, too, even if you have a baby without any major sleeping/feeding issues. I'm sure it's terrifying in entirely different ways as the child(ren) get older. (The dust-up, FYI, is someone essentially accusing someone else of lying because she sounds remarkably productive. I don't think the productive person is a liar; I am just flat-out envious.)
Women who are considering becoming single parents ("thinkers") will often analyze information with great intensity. I was one of those women-- I went through the numbers and the information and read, carefully, information on women who'd become single moms and how they were handling it. I don't think anyone (at least not anyone that I paid attention to) said anything other than how it is hard.
They also said that it was the hardest, best thing they'd ever done.
I don't know. Regardless of your status (single or partnered), there's just no way to know how it is to be a parent until you're actually a parent. No amount of research can possibly help you understand how it feels to be up at three in the morning with an infant who has been screaming since, seemingly, the dawn of time. No Excel spreadsheet can quantify how it feels the first time your child presses an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek.
To some degree, you just have to do it or not do it. Leap or not. Yeah, it's going to suck sometimes. It IS tiring. It's scary as hell. Regardless of what you choose, you'll probably have second thoughts, and that's fine too.
If you become a parent, one day you'll realize you don't really remember what your life looked like before that child entered your world. And your gin and tonic will be delicious, but you'll want to be somewhere else. And that? That's your life, now.