Meatloaf and Musings

Baby Girl loves meatloaf. I made it just for her. Not surprisingly, she seems to like salty foods more than sweet ones. Just like her mama. I'm so excited to get to cook things we both enjoy eating! Scrambled eggs was the first, but that barely counts. This was out first real shared meal. Granted, she ate about an ounce or two. And I had to pop little bites into her open mouth. But it counts, right?

Ingredients
1 lb ground pork (using up the remainder of my mom's pork share. When its gone,  I'll use beef)
1 lb ground turkey
4 carrots, grated
1 cup minced shiitake mushrooms (or any other type)
1 large minced onion
Garlic, to taste, minced (or garlic powder)
3 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
6 tbsp ketchup
1 cup oatmeal
3 eggs, beaten

Preheat oven to 375

Sautee veggies

Mix raw meat, oatmeal, eggs, Worcestershire, and 3 tbsp ketchup. Add sauteed veggies. Mix, mix. Add more oatmeal if mixture seems runny.

Form log in shallow pan.

Bake for about an hour.

Yum! 

In other news, I'm starting to wonder what in the fuck I'm going to do with my life. Before Gumball's dad (you know, my soon to be ex-husband) took off, I had planned to return to nursing school. Since leaving Massachusetts, and my nursing program, I find myself in a sort of limbo. I can afford to stay home with the baby. For awhile. On the other hand, I only know a handful of people here, and have zero life outside of the baby. That has been a relief, in a way, since my life feels so sad and lonely. I'm ok with not having any sort of life of my own, for now. I want to stay home with the baby. I pretty much can't stand to be without her. This is good for now. But I know that I am going to have to start planning for our future. And I have no idea what I want to do. Returning to nursing school would be an option, but there is no program like the one I left behind. I have a Master's degree. I was in a two-year to BSN RN program. Here I could study for four years to get a BSN RN. Or do an advanced, two year intensive, Master's-level program for an NP. Or I could, you know, get a job. In some field I've studied. Public Health or something.

I know people do it all the time. I'm just having trouble imagining how I could leave little Gumball. I imagine that with traffic and commuting, I would get to see her for about 2, maybe 3 hours a day. During which time I would have to feed, bathe, play, love and cuddle her. It just doesn't seem like enough time. Everyday she does something new. In the past week she's begun crawling and clapping her feet. I don't have the emotional strength to leave her yet, and imagining missing anything feels like a spear through my heart. Also, I want to make sure that she gets a maximum amount of love each day. How can I do that if we're not together? I really just don't know.

Planning

There are many aspects of single motherhood that I was not prepared for. Actually, I wasn't prepared for any of it. That said, there are specific experiences that, so far, have defined this crazy trip for me. A big one is planning. The thing is, when you're a single mom, planning becomes essential. I don't know. Maybe it's just me. I am kind of a planner/hoarder/type A sort of person. Something about being a single mom brings these characteristics out in full force. I live in terror that I won't have something I need. No, not something I need... something the baby needs. What could I possibly need? Food, I have. Clothing too. But the baby? Her needs are much more urgent.

Just to share a few of the necessities. Diapers? I have a case. Wipes? A case. The special, seasonal Earth's Best that she will eat 8oz of for dinner and sleep 6 or 8 hours without waking (Turkey/Cran, in case you were wondering.) I have 40 jars. Pedialyte? Got it. Baby tylenol, advil, butt cream. Yup. And if I forget to buy more, well, I joined Amazon Mom AND Amazon Subscribe and Save to get 30% off diapers and butt cream, so even if I were to forget, or to somehow become incapacitated, diapers and cream will continue to be delivered to my house every 2 months.

The thing is, I hate asking for help. And I've had to do it pretty much constantly for the past 8 months. My mom has saved my life over and over. While dealing with a messed up thyroid. My friends D and S wrote me emails almost every single night when things were the roughest. And they continue to support me in many different ways. J demanded that I get off my exhausted ass and start to feel better, even though it was literally the last thing I could imagine doing. My lovely ex-neighbor J cooked for me, went to doctors appointments with me and the baby, held the baby so I could nap, helped me move. My aunt C came out of no where to help us get by. God, so many people, so much help. I detest being this vulnerable. I don't know if having a partner would change this feeling, but without one, I feel like it is me against the world. And a stockpile of diapers and wipes and Turkey/Cran eases my anxiety. Somewhat.