There are times that I forget that there are more than just two of us heading down this crazy engagement path towards forever.  And then I remember.  And my initial feeling of excitement is followed by terror.

Time to talk about H.  H is half of my other half.  She is fantastic.  She's sweet and funny and creative.  She's seven.  She lives with her mom.  And she constantly has me on my toes.

She is smart.  Scary smart.  Months ago we had gone for a walk and stopped to get some ice cream on the way home.  I gave her the pound coin and she marched in and back out with her popsicle in hand.

And as seven-year olds can, she wanted to go do something else.  And I said no.  Correction.  I thought I'd be all adult and negotiate.  I asked if she could stick with our original plan as I had just bought her ice cream.

"Well," she said, and I could see the wheels spinning and me about to be crushed underneath them.  "You didn't buy me ice cream.  You gave me the money and then I went in and bought it.  Right?"

I had no response.  She was completely right.  And she said it politely.  And I'm still new to this whole future step....well I'm so new I can't even write it yet.  I'm tense even just avoiding writing it.

I will admit that it has taken me a while to realize who H is...that she is my other half's child and not just some cool kid he happens to know.  But the more I get to know her, the more I miss her when she's not here.  And the more upset I get when we have to say goodbye.

So a few weeks ago we were on yet another walk (I need to be careful with these) and she started talking about the wedding.  She said she was so excited for her daddy and I to get married, because then she'd have two moms.

I heard the brakes clawing at the pavement in my head.  Largely because I wanted to make it clear that H only had one mom, just like she'd only ever have one dad, and because I really don't want to rile up Momma H.

"H," I said.  "Your Mum is your mom, but why don't we come up with another name for me.  Something like..."  and I started to think what I'd want to be called.  Cool friend Kathleen? Fairy Princess? She-Ra....

"Oh, ok,"  she said.  "You mean like....step-mom?"

SCREEEEEEEEECH.

"Yeah, H.  That'll work."

And then there was yesterday.  I was up in H's room straightening up some bits and I found some drawings she had hidden in her wardrobe.  Including this:

If I do have to use the s-title, at least it's for a pretty cool kid.  I mean, she did make my shoes stand out from the others.

But is it too early for a drink?