Monday, April 7, 2014

Girls Rock

Photo of Pulpit Rock courtesy of
It was a gorgeous Sunday.  We had two choices. Allow the kids to reenact wrestle mania (four kids makes tag teaming incredibly appealing). Or go on a hike and try to exhaust them so they would forget how much they hate one another.  We opted for the latter.  Keeping the former as an option if the latter didn't work.  In my haste to get a husband, 4 kids and 2 dogs out the door, I forgot to bring the camera.  And for a hike that has incredible views of Pike's Peak no less.

The hike was the same as it always is.  Sibling squabbles over who gets to hold the dogs' leashes, who doesn't know quantum physics and who has seen Walking Dead at a friends house and how to prove that they did.  Their arguing reached an apex when we got to the top.  I wondered if one of them was going to start a treacherous game of king of the mountain.  That's when I saw her.

Doing that quiet freak out thing a mom does while trying to pretend she's not freaking out for the sake of her kids.  Who always totally know that feigned calmness is fake.  She had the youngest on her back in one of those backpack things that always dig into your back making that 20 pounds of kid feel like 100.  Even if you traded in your car for it at REI, it's destined to be dreadfully uncomfortable.  This is what prevented her from being able to get to her 5 year old stuck on a steep and pebbled portion of the face of the hill, too scared to descend.  While her 7 year old son tested the boundaries of reascending.

This is how I became friends with Rene.  Helping her boys and her back down the rock, with the baby lulled to sleep by the impending chaos in the backpack.  We slipped and stumbled our way down together.  My thumb was bleeding and my nose was dripping, lacking a tissue, I did the 5 finger salute.  Despite that, she took my hand for stability.  We chatted and found out we have a lot in common.  I'm thinking, I really like her.  And here's the conundrum.  Do we now refer to ourselves as blood sisters or snot sisters?

When we reached the parking lot, I gave her my number.  Later that day, she texted.  Wanting to take me out.
Deja fucking vu.

If you haven't read my book, you may not realize, I've made some really bad choices in fast friendships in the past.  I mean, I think I've learned from them and everything.  But, what if I haven't?  What if she turns out to be a fucking psycho?  I mean I don't think that's gonna happen.  But, of course, I didn't think that before either.  When that's exactly what happened.

Date day rolls around.  I walk in, she's already there.  The menu has totally changed and there's less options for her.  But that's not the biggest change.  She's pregnant.  She found out yesterday.  It was a surprise and right when her husband is set to be deployed.  And we talk.  Really talk about life.  Not bullshit.  Although shit was one of the topics we covered extensively.  But in addition to that, we talked about what it means to be a woman.  The joys and the nagging feeling that other moms are better than you.  Which of course isn't true.  But, it's the common denominator of all good moms.  Assuming that they in fact aren't.  This is why we need girlfriends.  To encourage each other and laugh at ourselves.  And because our husbands just don't understand the way a woman's mind works. 

This is why girls rock!

PostScript:  Thank god Rene didn't turn out to be a psycho.  A bit neurotic maybe, but I like my girls a bit crazy.  Cause god knows I am.  And we've gone with Snot Sisters right now fyi.  Although that's subject to change as the years go by.

3 comments: said...

Glad you found a new friend- and you didn't even need to meet the guru on the mountaintop...

BLissed-Out Grandma said...

I love this. And don't forget that YOU rock for helping her.

Muriel Jacques said...

Maybe sometimes we need to listen to our intuition?


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