It takes a village
At some point they gave up trying to understand. The world was obviously ready only for "traditional" families, and that didn't cover them in any possible way. The best they could do to describe their situation was "single mother with one child, supported by her closest relatives". Which only meant that every document, every power of attorney, and even signing up for Henry's daycare was a challenge of explaining to general public the whys and hows of their daily life.
"Please list who is also authorised to pick Henry up. We have a very strict list of carers, and if someone is not on it, the child doesn't leave"
Emma nodded and started filling in the form.
"Also, please provide telephone contacts to all possible family members we could contact in case of emergency."
"What kind of emergency can there be in a daycare center?"
The headmistress shrugged.
"Anything from a bloody nose to a problem with water mains. I suppose all parents would prefer to pick up the kids in case we have a problem with water supply…"
Emma nodded noncommittally and added Elsa and Elena in the provided spaces.
"Please fill this in correctly" the headmistress returned the form. "You need to also provide your partner's information."
Emma sighed.
"I have no partner. It's me and my sisters. Is that a problem?"
Raised eyebrows.
"Not as such, but I need to know if you and the father of the child are sharing custody or… I mean, if we suddenly get a man, claiming he's Henry's father, we need to know what is the situation."
Emma shivered at the thought.
"You won't, I assure you. Henry has no other family but us."
"Really, what are they thinking? I understand that a single parent is not the norm, but there are so many families that don't match the social norm… and so many reasons, from domestic abuse to death! And why would I mention some guy on the form just to make sure he will not be treated as a parent?"
Emma held her tiny, dark-haired son to her shoulder. After the day she had, the simple therapeutic action of hugging the toddler seemed to be the best thing to do. The way Henry curled up against her and fell asleep felt like a balm for her soul. His head pressed into the crook of her neck, his breathing slow and even, his small fists curled tightly, he was a living medicine. Just his smell - maybe slightly mixed with the smell of soap and crayon wax - made her relax.
She sighed, as Elsa sat next to her and slowly peeled Henry off of her.
"Probably they assume that their daycare is fancy enough to only bring in proper high-quality customers, and not vagabonds and weirdos like us. Considering the percentage of non-full-families in the middle class, I'd say they are in for a disappointment…"
Henry nestled in her hold, pressing his face into her sweater and mumbling something.
"I'm putting this one to bed. You try to relax, these people are just not worth your nerves."
Elsa loved watching Henry sleep. He was so… stable. Unlike most things in their lives, he was - more or less - unchangeable. Or rather, predictable. He grew, he learned new things, he progressed, but it was the proper kind of change, the natural one. Not something that happened in leaps and turned the reality around them into an unknown.
She watched as he stretched, yawned and turned on the other side, making small, cat-like noises.
"Elsie! I think we need something hot! Could you heat up the milk? It's freezing outside and Henry's nose is getting blue."
"And I catched some snow on my tongue! Is it going to turn blue too, Mum?" he looked at Emma with sudden anxiety.
"It should not, kid, but only if aunt Elsa makes that hot chocolate for us a-s-a-p! Come on, out of that jacket. It's wet all the way through!"
Elsa appeared in the kitchen door and watched them in surprise.
"How did he manage to get that wet?"
"Well, he found the biggest pile of slightly-melted-but-not-quite snow and rolled in it before I caught him. So, basically, I think his underwear may be, but just may be dry. Come on, kiddo, strip and put on these" she handed him a pair of soft pyjama bottoms. "And wash your hands."
They sat at the kitchen counter - "wide enough for three and a half" as Elena called it - and sipped their chocolate, as Elsa joined them, holding a tall glass of iced tea.
"Aunt Elsa? Why are you drinking that cold stuff?"
She blinked and thought for a moment.
"I don't really like hot drinks, dear. I think I might have burned my tongue on something long ago and now I can't really eat anything very warm."
"Ah" Henry though for a moment, his lips on the rim of the cup. "That's not good" he finally pronounced. "Chocolate is the very bestest thing to drink. It's very bad you can't drink it."
"The important part is that I can still make it for you" she hugged him, messing up his hair. "You can always drink some in my name."