Birthday magic

We just celebrated Annika's first birthday. It's actually tomorrow, but since that's Mother's Day we had her party today on the 9th.
I think it is every parent's responsibility to make sure that their kid's birthday party is well done and memorable, but most of all, make sure that the kid feels like it's a big deal.
The first few are dry runs since your child is not going to remember it. Afterwards, it's good to sit back, take notes and figure out what could have gone better, what mistakes not to make again.
And quite frankly, having a party for a one-year-old was a mistake.
I ran around all week buying food and a cake; cleaning house; mowing the yard; and just generally getting ready for the party.
Then the morning of the party, I spent most of it doing last minute cleaning and food preparations.
During the party I spent half the time talking to other parents and not focussing on Annika.
By the time the party ended I was exhausted and realized, too late, that I hadn't even fed her any of her birthday cake!
This party was a stupid idea.
I'm just glad she won't remember it.
Lesson learned.
The good thing is, I realized it.
Birthday's should be about the birthday girl (or boy).
I want to make sure that my daughter feels special on her birthday. And it's a good thing I have a few more birthdays to practice so I can get it right when she's old enough to realize what's going on.

For about five minutes I was a lesbian

It finally happened.
Using the term "partner" for Toyin, my co-parent and the father of my daughter, made it appear to someone that I am a lesbian.
To clarify, I don't mind lesbians. I have had, over the years, plenty of gay friends. But I am not gay.
It was pretty amusing. I always imagine that most people in my age group, like me, enjoy having gay friends. It makes us hipper, more diverse, and appearing to be very open-minded. How cool to go to a playgroup with a lesbian and her bi-racial baby! Now that's some serious points on the diversity scale. My new friend is, I believe, Asian, so maybe she cares less about that than me.
Here's what happened.
After a few months of haggling with calling Toyin my boyfriend (which he's not, but it's easier); trying to refer to him as Annika's dad; or just using his name and leaving off any modifier, I finally settled on calling him my partner while speaking of him to people who don't know us very well.
I knew it could be confusing to some people since it's common for gay couples to refer to their significant others as partners, so I always tried to make sure I referred to him as Annika's dad or use a male pronoun before I used the term "my partner." But I have gotten so comfortable using the term, that, without any forethought, I casually mentioned him as my partner to a woman I had just met in a playgroup.
After a couple minutes of talking she asked me if I had Annika with my partner or with someone else.
"What an odd question," I thought to myself as I answered her that, no, I had Annika with my current partner.
About ten seconds later it hit me and I smirked.
"She thinks I'm a lesbian," I realized.
Hee hee hee.
For a few minutes I felt like a very hip, urban stay-at-home mom lesbian whose partner was probably some sort creative type, a commercial photographer, a music producer or something like that who made lots of money to support her little bi-racial baby and breastfeeding lover.
In my head, if I was gay, my partner would be super cool, with lots of tattoos and piercings. I don't know why, because most gay people I know don't have any more tatts or piercings than anyone else I know, but it's my fantasy, so I can do what I want.
But alas, the fairy tale came to an end when I finally decided to tell her a little about Toyin and made sure to use male pronouns a lot.
She didn't seem disappointed. Hopefully, my coolness is still high up there since I am an unmarried mom to a black baby.
I remember a day and a place when that would have just made me a slut.

Co-parenting anyone?

I keep wondering if there are any other folks out there like my little family. We are an odd pair of parents. Toyin and I aren't married, nor are we a couple. We were once and it was nice, but in the end we realized that the main thing we enjoyed about each other was the sex.
We stayed friends and when I got pregnant after what was supposed to be a fun weekend swimming and jetskiing we decided to do what was best for our daughter.
We decided to be co-parents.
I had never planned to be a mother. But I knew that if I ever did, there would be no other choice but to stay at home with my kid(s).
When I told Toyin that I wanted to stay home with Annika, he agreed to support me for the first year.
In order to do that, we figured that it made sense financially to live together.
We are not a couple, yet we have chosen to raise our daughter together. We live together, share bills, meals, and fight like a dysfunctional couple. And so far, it works way better than I ever thought it would.
Ask me on another day, and I might tell you I'm in a living hell. Ask him, and who knows what he might say, like me, it would probably depend on the day.
But ask our daughter, (she can't talk yet) and she'll babble at you and crawl over to one of us arms raised and look around at us as if this is the most natural life in the world.
She doesn't know anything different. She's happy. So it works.
I wondered how this year would go.
Living with an ex-boyfriend. Depending on him for money. Wondering what people think of our arrangement. Deciding when or if I should tell people that ours is not a typical family. Letting people assume, and they do.
But it has worked as well as any marriage, maybe better than some, maybe not as good as some.
It's going to end soon. We've been talking about when the day comes that we no longer live together. I'm nervous about becoming a single mom for real.