Girl talk has become a bit of a lifeblood for me, especially now as I negotiate the new world of parenthood. I have a fantastic core of friends who have seen me through all of life's transitions and share with me honestly the stories of their own. Some can finish my sentences. Others live strangely parallel lives. Some tease me out of my quirkiness while others know just what to say or do to make everything feel normal again. Whether it's a 3 and a half minute voicemail message, a quick text, a random visit, a funny card, or a scheduled girls night in, these connections make me feel just that - connected. (That "on an island" feeling of motherhood has been surprising...)
In fact, it was an email exchange that finally pushed me to try a blog. After a particularly rough evening, I sat down to write my friends. What came out was a good-humored rant about life as I now know it and all the "poop" that comes with it:
It was a pretty productive day. We tried story hour at the library - my first time out with other moms. Claire was social and behaved. I had a decently cute outfit on. Claire got a library card. We visited family. Jeff came home from work and we went to the bank. That's went it all went to poop. Literally.
We get to the bank, sign in and wait to be called. Then someone decides she has to go. And it's bad. Like can't cover it up bad. So we go downstairs to change. We get settled at the desk and someone decides she is going to spit up (which she never does) all over her mom's lap. And drool over her cute new Gymboree fall outfit. Drool so much that she looks like she took a bath. Bank lady keeps saying how cute she is. She is actually a total flipping mess.
We finish at the bank. Jeff gets her all strapped in and she's happy. I decide to drop him off at home and go to the bookstore because I have a new gift card. A Halloween book for Claire would be nice, right? Because I'm all about literacy today. I decide to be go-with-the-flow-mom and take Claire in on my hip instead of in the heavy car seat. I grab Jeff's Diaper Dude because it is easier to have on over the shoulder. I walk to the store door and realize that Claire has gone yet again. And it's even worse than before.
So I'm in the bathroom and I'm wishing I could just put her in the shower. I strip her down and search his bag (why the hell did I leave mine in the car????) for an extra pair of clothes. All he has is pants so after we're all said and done, she's in pink pants and an orange owl top with no socks. I wanted to tell the lady at the checkout YES, I realize that she doesn't match but NO, we did not leave the house this way. I'm also falling out of my own top because I'm holding her and my boobs are bigger (not in a desirable way) and my shirt (the cute one) just doesn't quite fit right. (The muffin top - that wasn't in the What to Expect books!)
I walk out of the store and my phone falls out of my open purse and on to the street, where it is almost run over by a car. A nice woman saves it and comments on the precious cargo in my arms - "That's a lot for Mom to carry, isn't it?" I get to the car and proceed to hit Claire's head on the inside roof of the car. Delayed cry. The-maybe-she-didn't-even-notice-pause and then-all-out-mad-at-Mom-scream.
I just sat in the driver's seat. The self-assured mom-about-town this morning was gone. And right now, the how-in-the-world-did-I-get-here-mom is sitting here typing this while Claire waits for her bath and bottle and....thank goodness...bed.
We get to the bank, sign in and wait to be called. Then someone decides she has to go. And it's bad. Like can't cover it up bad. So we go downstairs to change. We get settled at the desk and someone decides she is going to spit up (which she never does) all over her mom's lap. And drool over her cute new Gymboree fall outfit. Drool so much that she looks like she took a bath. Bank lady keeps saying how cute she is. She is actually a total flipping mess.
We finish at the bank. Jeff gets her all strapped in and she's happy. I decide to drop him off at home and go to the bookstore because I have a new gift card. A Halloween book for Claire would be nice, right? Because I'm all about literacy today. I decide to be go-with-the-flow-mom and take Claire in on my hip instead of in the heavy car seat. I grab Jeff's Diaper Dude because it is easier to have on over the shoulder. I walk to the store door and realize that Claire has gone yet again. And it's even worse than before.
So I'm in the bathroom and I'm wishing I could just put her in the shower. I strip her down and search his bag (why the hell did I leave mine in the car????) for an extra pair of clothes. All he has is pants so after we're all said and done, she's in pink pants and an orange owl top with no socks. I wanted to tell the lady at the checkout YES, I realize that she doesn't match but NO, we did not leave the house this way. I'm also falling out of my own top because I'm holding her and my boobs are bigger (not in a desirable way) and my shirt (the cute one) just doesn't quite fit right. (The muffin top - that wasn't in the What to Expect books!)
I walk out of the store and my phone falls out of my open purse and on to the street, where it is almost run over by a car. A nice woman saves it and comments on the precious cargo in my arms - "That's a lot for Mom to carry, isn't it?" I get to the car and proceed to hit Claire's head on the inside roof of the car. Delayed cry. The-maybe-she-didn't-even-notice-pause and then-all-out-mad-at-Mom-scream.
I just sat in the driver's seat. The self-assured mom-about-town this morning was gone. And right now, the how-in-the-world-did-I-get-here-mom is sitting here typing this while Claire waits for her bath and bottle and....thank goodness...bed.
Later, after I put my daughter to bed (my husband and I always slap five after she's settled in her crib - another successful day of parenting completed), I listened to the bings of my inbox, sipped at a glass of wine and laughed at the responses. It felt great not to be alone. Our girl talk has definitely evolved over the past 10 years but now it feels more important than ever.
Girl talk just might be one of the best parts of being a girl. My daughter is learning that early. You should hear the conversations she has with her dog!
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