“Hi, Mom.” She shrugs me off.
“You’re always gonna be my baby.” I snatch her up and swing her around. “How was school?”
We stroll back to the house, Gabby loud and proud in her hot-pink leggings and silver-sequined backpack, the one I bought for her.
It may not seem like much, but it is. Everything she has, I bought and paid for on my own. Not a cent of child support ever made it my way. I found divorce papers in the mail one morning, giving me full custody, and I signed before my coffee cooled.
“Billy Straits called Lizzie Jenkins ugly and told her that’s why her mom isn’t letting her go trick-or-treating. I got up in his face and told him to shut it.”
That’s my Gabby, seven going on thirty-five, ruler of social justice on the playground, and her own judge and jury to boot.
“Lizzie’s mom has to work the night shift, and her dad can’t afford to miss work, and her grandma is too old to walk around with her and the baby, so Lizzie has to stay at home and pass out candy with her. Maybe ... she can come with us?”
Who didn’t know that was coming?
Halloween will be a late work night for me. Blog posts and Facebook and Instagram will be clogged with photos of kids decked out to the nines, posing for the cameras. What most people don’t know is those kiddos are hustling for their mommy bloggers without getting paid to do it. Some are—like my girl, Lila. I don’t touch her mom’s blog with a ten-foot pole. I love the shit out of that one, not a negative thought in the universe when it comes to her.
See? I’m not the tin man. I have a sensitive side.
Which is why there’s no way I’m going to leave Lizzie Jenkins out to dry.
“Sure, baby. Maybe she’ll come home after school with you and eat an early dinner with us, and then we’ll go out.”
We don’t get trick-or-treaters at the upper floor of the duplex where Gabby and I live. Leona hands out “big bars,” and the kids always run away happy as pigs in shit, ignoring the long trek up the stairs to our entrance.
“Great. Text her mom when we get home and tell her. ’Kay, Mom?”
“Absolutely.”
We hike up the stairs to the side entrance of our place, the one I bought all on my own without the help of Charles, or Mr. Coffee, as I like to think of my ex. Gabby grabs a granola bar, and I do as I’ve been told and text Lizzie’s mom.
Then we’re left to our nightly routine. I jump in the shower, and Gabby gets in right after me, scrubbing the school grime off. It may seem backwards, but this is the way we fit it all in, allowing me to work after Gabby goes to sleep. After showers, we do homework, eat dinner, and on most nights, take an evening walk before stories and bedtime. Rinse and repeat.
“You’re the best mom.” Gabby snuggles close after I settle on her bed to read with her. Her small finger winds through a strand of my long brown hair and twirls it. She’s been doing that as long as I can remember, and a small shudder runs through me at the thought of losing this precious time with her.
I don’t need a man. I need Gabby.
I kiss the top of her head, smooth back her blond curls, and breathe in her innocence. As long as she stays this way, I’ll do what I have to do.
Hip, hip, hooray!Dollars for DaddyandMean Budget Momare shacking up. That’s right, folks! After both peddling the lean life of being a single parent while saving for college and trips to the happiest place on earth, they’re tying the knot. Together.
In a combined blog post shared on both of their sites last night, they described the slow-burn love affair that began at a promo event for car insurance:
Over glowing green martinis at the Car Insurance Expo, we shared light conversation about our kids and our mutual love of the blogging world. We took a complimentary Uber to a nearby restaurant where we continued the evening. It was the most adorable sports bar called Mickey Moore’s. Daniel (Dollars for Daddy) writes about Mickey’s frequently, so they picked up the tab in exchange for a few Instagram posts. We were both equally gleeful over this because we are old-school budgeteers—it was a match made in heaven.
The two plan to have a big wedding and are entertaining sponsors as we speak. They were undecided as to whether they would opt for a destination wedding or a local affair. I’m guessing whatever sponsor coughs up the biggest deal will get to host the happily budgeted vows. They both plan to keep up their individual blogging, but they said to stay tuned for a big surprise!
I’m guessingBaby on a Budgetwill be born.
I’m sayingmazel tovin advance and raising a glass to Daniel and Marie Claire.
Affectionately yours,
The UnAffectionate Blogger
Snarky Momma commented:
Hey, I could do a destination wedding on a budget if it was all paid for. Hahahaha!
