Page 62 of Never Really Over

That’s another change that I can’t get over. After Natalie died, Poppy wasn’t quite content. She was fussy and I knew she was missing her mommy. But over the past month, the sadness seems to be fading. I know she wouldn’t understand what’s going on, and I am trying to figure out a balance between talking about Natalie often, showing her pictures and letting her know what an amazing mother she had, and not wanting to dwell on it. Without a doubt, I’m stumbling my way through this and often feel as if I’m doing a shitty job of it, but every time she does something new, learns a new way to play, or simply smiles, some of those doubts crumble.

The situation is far from ideal, but we’re making a new life together and so far, I think we’re doing a pretty damn good job.

This little girl is my entire world.

“You ready to get your party dress on?” I ask Poppy.

She looks at me with a toy in her mouth, drool all over the toy, her chin, and her fist.

“Come here, baby. We’ve got celebrating to do.” I hold up one finger and she tosses the toy aside, squeals, toddling toward me with a little grin.

She collides against my legs, wrapping her arms around me. I lift her up and toss her in the air, catching her and doing it all over again.

I plant a kiss on her cheek and tighten my hold.

“Love you, Tootsie Pop. Got a kiss for me?”

With her mouth wide open, she plants a wet kiss against my mouth.

After tipping her upside down and kissing all over her neck and chest, I lift her back up, blonde curls flopping around. Her laughter is all I need in this world. It’s what makes my dark days brighter and it’s a reminder that no matter what comes in our paths next, we’re in this together. Because the love I have for this little one will conquer everything that comes. Even becoming a teenager.

In Poppy’s newly decorated nursery, I built a section in her closet that’s at her height. Every day, she picks out her own clothes. She might be only one, but I figure it’s not too early to start working with her on little things. She probably doesn’t know what she’s doing, and every day I have to help her, but it’s something she and I are doing together. I learned quickly that she and I needed more routine and this was something Amy had suggested. She told me she does it with her older children, and doubted it would make much sense for Poppy, but thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.

We were waking up every day and just doing whatever we wanted that day. It felt like we were always scrambling. There was no specific nap time or bedtime. It was making everything off for Poppy, which meant it was off for me.

Amy came over on her own a couple days after the whole teething debacle and sat me down with a calendar. She showed me the basics.

What ages I needed to schedule well-child checkups for.

Gave me a bit of an outline for diaper and clothing sizes. Talked over car seats and double checked my pickup to make sure Poppy’s was installed correctly. Which, thank goodness, it was. She would have ripped me apart if it wasn’t.

Told me where to go to get her first pair of shoes, letting me know that I needed agoodpair of shoes to start her out walking right.

She went through my kitchen and made sure we had healthy, baby-appropriate meals and snacks, then helped me figure out some good meals for Poppy, even though I felt like I was already doing a pretty good job of that part. I’m learning that more ideas and help can never hurt. And after I thought Poppy was going to die because she was cutting a tooth, I realized help was definitely needed.

Amy helped me order all the child-proofing things that I’m pretty sure were invented by a sadist.

The next day, Missy and Jenna took me shopping. Or, rather, took Poppy shopping. I handed over my credit card and told them to get what she needed. They didn’t hold back. They had a special girls’ day and while they were gone, I got a ton of work done. I had scheduled Aria to come that day and paid her extra to get some deep cleaning done. She is a gem and ended up spending over seven hours scrubbing every nook and cranny in the entire house, including my fridge and freezer. In return, I paid for her kids’ back to school clothes, shoes, and supplies, and made sure they had winter gear that fit.

She cried and I got choked up because to me, it was a little thing, but she told me they were concerned about the added expense that back to school time brings and having me help with it meant more than I could ever know. In the end, I thought I got the better deal.

Jenna and Missy shopped ‘til they dropped, letting Poppy sleep in the stroller or in the baby carrier, Aria cleaned the house, and I got a week’s worth of work done in a day.

That night, everyone came over, kids included, and we had pizza and beer, started a bonfire, and let the kids run wild. Poppy did her best to keep up with everyone, and I suspect the party today will be much of the same.

Much to Amy’s dismay, today’s going to be low-key. For Poppy and me, we’re finally finding our footing. Throwing a huge bash that could throw off her schedule was not something I was willing to risk.

With the help of the girls, I have two separate party outfits ready for her hanging in the lower section of her closet. One is a poofy tulle skirt with a bright blue t-shirt that has the number one on it. The one is made of silver sequins and the skirt is rainbow colored. The other outfit is simpler. A pair of leggings with tootsie pops all over and a t-shirt much the same as the other one, but this one is hot pink. Of course, I almost bawled like a baby when I saw the leggings because I didn’t even know something like that existed, but the girls managed to find them.

I hold up both outfits for Poppy and rather than choose one, she dives for both, hugging the clothes.

Chuckling, I say, “Okay, so you want to wear it all?”

She doesn’t answer, so I decide for myself.

“How about the leggings under the skirt and you pick the shirt color?”

After wrestling on the leggings, I stand her up and pull the skirt over the leggings. It looks a little ridiculous, and maybe over-the-top, but it works. Her hair’s a mess, so I’ll have to do something with it, but luckily I know what I’m doing there. I fasten a couple clips in the sides after her hair is brushed out and hold up the pink and blue shirts for her.

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