“Well I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, I don’t know when I’ll be back again.”
Wait…I mean, a fast train. And I do know when I’ll be back again.
Wait, I’m back already.
Well, that went fast!
The day before I left for my long overdue girls’ weekend, a friend of mine from here in town called me.
“I just want to wish you a fun time,” she said, wistfully. “I’m not jealous. Oh, no I’m not! Seriously though, do you think hubby will need any help while you’re gone?”
“Help? What help? Let him see how fun it is to be me for a day!” I snorted.
I swear I didn’t set up the appointment for my baby—that he had to drag all three kids to— at naptime— on purpose.
Oh noo I did-in’t!
“Ha! Well, when are you coming back?”
“A week from never?”
“Oh, you’re bad.”
“I know, I know. You know I’m full of &^%$. Never mind my tough talk— you know when they all drive away I’ll be the one tearing up because I hardly ever leave them. And the hub will be fine. I’m not one bit worried, seriously. If I can do it, he can do it—I’m more worried he’ll do it better. He might put me out of a job—and I can’t support the family on my imaginary writing career you know! After they eat pizza and calzones and watch movies and have their ‘camp out’ in the family room, they might not want mother hen to return! Waah!”
Job security aside, I took the Acela train (It’s fast! It has party snacks! It has coffee! And leg room! And beer!) from Boston to DC the other day to meet up with two of my old housemates from college. There were five of us who lived together (but only three of us could make it this time, boo!). We’ve been friends for…..a long time…we’ve known each other since…well, put it this way, it was long before husbands, kids , grey hairs and houses with two car garages were even on the radar.
Our friendships were formed over keg cups and pizzas, Melrose Place (the original— not this new fangled thing!) and flannel button downs (Shut it. It was the early 90s!) Now our conversations are bed times and binkies, household schedules and school districts, Tarjay clothes and home improvements. (But we’re not too mature to make fun of the guy at the pool who maybe wasn’t wearing undies under his robe…..ack!)
We live hours and hours and hours away from each other. Though the geographic distance is huge, we’ll be friends forever (Friends 4-eva, yeah! Sorry, couldn’t resist…a nod to yesteryear for us thirtysomethings) and even though we hadn’t seen each other in two years, we picked up the instant we saw each other. There was laughter and pedicures and too much food (if there is such a thing!) and too many drinks (sorry livers…you can regroup another day). We figured out we’re too old to sit in a smoky, dancy club bar (eew) but not too old to close the hotel bar with the rowdy wedding party (aahh)!
Being a good mom should not preclude you from taking your show on the road sometimes. I love my kids to pieces, but I’ve come to realize it’s healthy and fun and necessary to reconnect with great friends who knew me when….I was just a single girl with a keg cup and a Sox hat, five bucks in my pocket and lots of hopes and dreams. (Sometimes I just hoped someone would buy me dinner…oh look how far I’ve come!)
Stop.laughing.right.now. I have too come a long way!