Monday, January 16, 2012

The Old Homestead

I recently purchased a card reader so I'll be able to upload photos to this computer from my old camera.  We have only come across one disk so far.  October 28, 2007.  This is my old Mexican sage plant that I grew from a clipping a friend gave me.  Mexican sage is among the lengthy list of plants that are not ideal for the high desert climate, so we left it in the yard of our old apartment.  Nance and I went past the other day.    Either the apartment manager or the tenant who moved in after us removed it and everything else we grew.


Monday, January 09, 2012


I have just given up a friendship.  I am sad and mad and upset, but mostly I am fine.  It was both sudden and not.

This friendship was an important one to me.  We met while expecting our babies, who ended up being born on the same day, just a few hours and rooms apart.  I had dreams of our kids being lifelong friends.

It's one thing to be friends with other parents of newborns, but trickier once the kids get a little older.  Maybe a year ago after I listened to yet another story about the screaming match she got into with her not quite two year old and the nit-picking of her husband's faults*, Tom and I agreed that maybe they are not "our people" after all.

*Not that we haven't all complained about our spouses now and again.  These stories often took venting to new levels.

Then there were the two years in a row when they were invited to our house, confirmed, and then ended up at a different friend's home instead.  And that other friend?  Lived about the same distance from them that we do, only in another direction.

More importantly, there was that call I made to her last year around this time.  Struggling and feeling like I was drowning, I turned to her.  Told her what I was going through and didn't quite buy it when she said she couldn't hear me well and ended the call.  A month later she wrote to apologize and I just let it go without comment.

This friend had a second baby two months ago, a daughter.  Some of the stories I heard several weeks back... the last time I called, because I am always the one who calls... reminded me of our own Mad-A-Girl.  The independence, the determination.  I laughed and said, "Sounds like you've got your own Madelyn!"

Are those bad words?

Because when we spoke today she said her husband was upset that I would say something negative, you know, about his baby.

"But I told him you didn't mean it that way, in a bad way."

"And then there's the fact that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my daughter."

Sometimes in life I have overreacted and/or been too quick to react.  It's not a mistake I like to keep making, so I let the conversation end itself naturally (not before listening to how she can't relate to other moms who have a second baby because she's just so darn sure it's worse for her than it is for anyone else.  Really?!?).

I spoke with Tom and I spoke with Nancy.

If it were just the stupid comment about my girl, I'd probably attribute it to sleep deprivation and extra hormones.  But all in all, I've had enough.

I contemplated writing a lengthy email detailing my exact feelings (this is the Reader's Digest version, in case you were wondering), but instead decided to call her back.  I got their answering machine and left a message.  I wanted to say that I loved her kids, but I didn't.  I just said I couldn't be friends with someone who thought comparing their child to my own was hurtful, upsetting or offensive (all words that were used, can you believe it?) and that I would just enjoy the memories of when I thought we were friends.  And that is it.

And it is.

Or it will be once I get over it.

Sunday, January 08, 2012

The Best Things

Feeling the giggling belly up against your own.

Seeing the soft baby shrugs of sleep.

Looking at her and thinking she's so grown up for her age, and then stumbling across a photo of this day last year, remembering you felt the exact same way then, only now you can see she was just a baby.  She still is.
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