I have an awesome friend, M, who used to work with me. We got married and pregnant within a few weeks of each other and bonded for life over things like taco cravings and husbands who retreat to the bed room to decompress after work while we herd toddlers toward the dinner table. I moved into the same suburb as M this winter (because the schools are really good, not because I’m creepy stalker friend). Now we have playdates and swap babysitting. What we don’t get to do is have our morning coffee and chat sessions because she works someplace else. Nor do we get to do impromptu happy hours anymore. But today we ran into each other on the way to work and got to have a three-minute conversation at Unoin Station before dashing off to our respective offices. After that I got this email from her:
Our chat this morning was like the ESPN 60 second round up…or whatever they call it. We covered: kids, hair, vacations, husbands, work, playdates, diets. What we didn’t cover: sex, drugs, rock n roll (unless coffee/caffeine counts). We are not cool.
Awesome. Pure awesome. And, sadly, very, very true.
I’ve got girlfriend who’ve spawned a few years ahead of me, and even though I don’t even have a kid yet, our conversations and hangouts are baby-tinged.
We used to be WAY MORE punk rock.
Sigh. “Girlfriend” should have been plural.
I like to pretend I’m still cool. It only works until I open my eyes.
Oh – darn, yet again uncoolness.
Those were the days.
Thank you so much for posting this today.My falimy is going through a medical crisis right now and I’ll be juggling kids, work, house and hubby’s recovery without any falimy in town.As hard as it was to ask, I reached out to friends and the moms of my kids’ friends and the response has been amazing. Remembering that you don’t have to do it all, is an important lesson.