Absolute Mommy: friendship

Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

About Friendships {Three Things Thursday two twentyfour}

New year. New me. New you. New goals. One major goal this year is to engage this wonderful blogging community better. What better way than to begin a new link up with some blog friends! Together, the three of us came up with Three Things Thursday. Just three things to talk or write about. Five seemed like too many and "one thing" was like we weren't even trying! So any three things that are on your mind. Any three pictures from Instagram. Three complaints about your day/week. Three of your favorite treats. Seriously. Any three things! So write it. Publish it. Yell it from the mountain tops!

Just be sure you come back and link it up here!

For some extra fun follow us on Instagram for some three things posts!

Use the #threethingsthursday, and let's start talking!

The Foley Fam

Coffee-n-Ink

Absolute Mommy

Today we welcome Kara from Chasing Zoie. Here you will find Kara traveling by land or sea, living the life of a blogger with style, and taking the occasional selfie.
Find her on Instagram as @chasingzoie.

This week I'm talking about friendship. Friendship takes on a different life when you are an adult. I have friends in my life that I've known since I was a teenager. I have friends that I've had since college. I have friends that I've met via blogging. I have friends that live in my neighborhood. My mix of friends is incredibly diverse, the only constant being that I share some kind of bond with them. Sometimes my friends are a byproduct of motherhood. Sometimes the kinship was created out of similar goals in blogging land. Some of my friendships stumbled upon me, right place, right time. I find that these days, having strong friendships in adulthood is important. It's also important to know how to keep those friends, starting with how you can be a good friend.

Here are three things I've learned about being a friend.

One: Friendly vs. Friends
I can't take the credit for this one. This is all based on a conversation I had with my best friend Krysten. Recently I lost hold of a friendship. I went through all the stages of grief, but still in the end, I really didn't understand why this friendship had withered. Was I really that horrible of a friend? What was my fault in all of this mess? Krysten of course had the best answer:

"There is a big difference between being "Friends" and being "Friendly".

Whoa. She's right. Perhaps what I took as "friendship", was really just two people being friendly. The relationship and the conversation with Krysten gave me pause. Are we ever really aware of the other person's motivation when they come to the friendship table? How can we be sure we are both giving and receiving of the relationship? Perhaps we can't, but in the future I will ask myself, "Is this person my friend, or are they just being "friendly".

Two: It, whatever "it" is, doesn't matter
If your friend loves you and is loyal to you, then nothing else matters. Friendship has this air of unconditionality (probably not a real word, but screw it). No matter what, you love that friend, and vice versa. A few weeks ago, in a pow wow session with some friends (real ones) I said that I was "faulty". My quick to judge attitude, my hot headed-ness, my big mouth; those are all of my faults. I can't change them, not now anyway, I'm almost forty. But in that conversation, a good friend reminded me that I'm not faulty, they (my friends) accept me this way, and they still love me. In fact it's sometimes what they love about me. That's friendship. You love anyway. It doesn't matter that one friend stays home with the kids and the other works. It doesn't matter that you like rap music and the other loves country. It doesn't matter that you have never seen an episode of the Kardashians and I still haven't read Vonnegut (personally speaking). Whatever the case may be, if they are your friend, your true friend, it doesn't matter.

I still haven't read Vonnegut. She still loves me anyway.

Three: There are no expiration dates
Last week I went to an event for the alumna of my sorority. Many of the women that showed up were in my pledge class, and it was like time had never passed. Sure we are older, more harried than our 18-22 year old selves. Some of us hadn't seen each other in years, but it was as if we all lived in that same big ol' house, sharing one giant bathroom, listening to stories of boys and booze while curling our hair. I was sad to realize that we weren't all going home, to the same house to talk on the stairs for the rest of the night.

Delta Zeta Pledge Class Fall 1996

This week, my best friend from high school text to say that the Cure will be playing at Shoreline in Mountain View. Tickets on the lawn are super affordable. That we should go and see the Cure together. Because after almost 18 years, the idea of seeing the Cure, at Shoreline on a blanket, like we are seventeen again, compelled her to text. And compels me to rearrange my life and go with her. After all the time in between the years of being best friends, I can't imagine a better date to see the Cure. Because after all this time, it would be weird for one of us to go without the other.

This week is also my Best Friends one year anniversary in her new home. I'm still sad when I realize she's no longer across town, and going to meet at Starbucks for overpriced coffee isn't going to happen. I miss her, but only by touch. We talk or text daily. We don't get to spend long hours blabbing on the phone, but sometimes we don't need to. We have this incredible shorthand, developed over the years. One year later and not much has changed. We still text about Scandal and laundry and our husbands. We still make time to talk, plying our kids with candy and Netflix. We still pretend that she is just on the other side of town because some days the truth is too hard.

The thing is, friendships don't expire. Even when you think too much time has passed, it hasn't. Send that text. Pick up the phone. Buy that card you saw that screams that one persons name who you miss. Because friendships have no expiration dates.

I hope you join us today and link up. Just three things about your day, your week, or your life. It's the easiest blog post you will ever write. Promise.

An InLinkz Link-up

Pink Hot Air Balloons

Image via this blog

A week ago my best friend moved out of state. It was pretty surreal, and by surreal I mean that I was in complete and total denial even on the day she left. I didn't want to believe that my best friend wasn't going to be on the other side of Fresno anymore. I wanted to believe that she would stay right on the west side of Fresno, forever, so that whenever I needed her she would be there.

This move was major for her. Something that she had been planning for a while. A move that she and her husband had been talking about for years. Then about six months ago, they stopped talking about it and started to move. Tired of waiting for the right time, and deciding that now was as good a time as any.

When she told me that it was time for her and her family to make the big leap, I was happy for her. And not the happy that you pretend to be because you think your friend needs it, but the genuinely happy that you should be for your friend. We've been friends for so long that we have been through "life changes" before. We have tackled the "new". New babies, new jobs, new dreams, new blogs, more new babies, and at one point a new home school curriculum. We have tackled the "changes". Career changes, marital changes, changes in our writing and our blogs, changes to our families, and now a change in our locations and proximity. With every new and every change, we didn't question or judge, we didn't give our opinion on why it wasn't right, we just said, "Okay", and "what do you need?".

I could have rattled off one hundred and one reason why her move to Montana was a bad idea. But it wasn't a bad idea for her, it was a bad idea for me. I didn't and still don't have the desire to move. I wouldn't want to live anywhere but here. My best friend had the desire to move. She wanted a change of scenery. She wanted a new chapter with a new location. Moving was a very good idea for her, so why would I point out any negatives? I wasn't the one moving.

I call this the "Hot Air Balloon" effect. Once when we were talking about something else, probably homeschooling (which she does) or fast food dinners (what we both do from time to time), I told her that my job as her friend wasn't to tell her that her choice was right or wrong. It wasn't my job to talk her out of this decision or that, my job was to support her choice. To support the decision she had made. Ultimately she made the decision that was right for her and her family, it's not up to me to be the judge of that decision. My job as her friend is to tell her I had her back. And honestly, nine times out of ten, I know it's the best decision for her. Even when I disagree, I tell her, then, I support her anyway.

Because even if she said, "I'm buying a hot air balloon tomorrow", my response should always be, "Great. What color?", followed by, "When do we fly it?".

I tried really hard to ignore the fact that my best friend was moving to Montana. Even though we talked about it for months, because she needed someone to talk to and vent to. She needed someone to confess her fears and her frustrations. She needed to talk to someone when everyone else in her life was less that excited that she was moving her family of five very far away. So I just kept telling her, "So, you're buying a hot air balloon. What color do you want?". And most days, she would say, "Pink. I want it to be pink".

So as the Pink Hot Air Balloon loomed in our background, I found it funny that many other people in my life wanted to know how I was dealing with it. I guess I understand, when you best friend is moving away, it's expected that you should be a blubbering mess. But I wasn't. My heart hurt a little, but it swelled a lot because she was so excited. I was excited for her and her new adventure. I was inspired that she was taking action, taking control of one her her dreams and making it happen. I wish I could be half as brave in similar instances. Even as her "going away" party got closer and closer on the calendar, I still wasn't as half as upset as I thought I would be. I bought her going away gift with glee, I wrote out some sentiments in a card that didn't say good-bye or bon voyage, and I made sure I could be at the party. Even when we said our good-byes after the party, there were minimal tears. Only promises of seeing each other soon. Promises of endless text messages.

Last Monday I woke up knowing that my best friend was on the road, driving across a couple of states and on to her new home. She would no longer have a familiar zip code or area code. She would be in a different time zone. It was still all surreal. I spent most of the day following along on Instagram as she made her journey. Enjoying pictures of her kids loading in car seats with laptops and snack foods. My breath actually catching when she posted a picture of snow. Because this is exactly what she had been dreaming of for so long. She had awoke something in herself, to go after that one thing she so desired. And I was so happy for her, and so sad for myself, at the same time.

Bittersweet isn't even the word to describe what it's like when your best friend moves so far away that a trip to see her requires an airplane. My heart was so torn because I was so delighted and thrilled for her, and at the same time be so selfish and sad that she isn't just right around the corner. But I felt both, I am both. I'm so damn happy for her that her every time she texts me a picture of the view from her front porch. I'm also heartbroken enough to know that when she posts a picture at the bookstore in her little town, I won't be meeting her there. I'll admit, I'm a little jealous too, a small town bookstore in the snow is so picturesque I can't stand it.

The Pink Hot Air Balloon is flying. And it looks beautiful in that big Montana sky. I miss her, and I miss the idea of her being so close, but I know that I can see her again. I know that we will always text on Thursday nights, after Scandal plays in my time zone. I know that I can send her a book in the mail and she will send me one in return. I know that I will still call her on my mornings off and we will ply our kids with Oreos so we can have important conversations about Hindsight and Harry Potter memes. I know all of that because I know her, and I know me, and I know the miles have never mattered.

One day your best friend might say, "I want to buy a hot air balloon". And I hope that you just smile and ask, "What color are we getting?".

And even when she says chartreuse, be excited anyway.

Dear Working Moms

Dear Working Moms,

I'm writing you today to apologize. I want to apologize for all the times I complained about being home all day with my stinking kids, who quite literally stunk like spit up and poop. For all the times my problems were supposed to be the only problems. For all the times I complained about all the running around I had to do, pick up, drop off, this and that. I apologize now, because I had no idea.

It's been a year since I returned to the workforce. A long, hard, troublesome year. A full year of me never having my shit together. I feel like such an asshole because I thought I knew. I thought I had an idea of what it was all going to be like. I thought I was at a place in my life where that challenge wasn't going to be so much of a challenge. I was so very wrong.

I'm so sorry I never realized that the guilt never goes away. I'm sorry that I didn't realize what a huge sacrifice it was for you to go back to work when your kids were just newborns. Tiny humans that were freshly swaddled and warm with love. How did you do that? How were you able to walk out that door? I have trouble leaving the girls today, on a Sunday morning, and they are big and not nearly as sweet smelling as the newborns they once were. I'm sorry I never acknowledged your sacrifice.

I'm sorry that I never understood now the pull between being a mother and being a career woman could knock your balance in such a way you quite often lost sight of yourself. I realize now that I didn't know that you felt guilt at work and then guilt at home because there was never quite enough of you to go around. And that all it took was a tear, a cracked voice, a sniffle, or tighter hug at drop off to question your decisions and motives to be successful in your job or career. I think that is what has surprised me the most.

I'm sorry I never realized just how hard you work. From the time you hit the snooze until the time you are able to hit your pillow every night. I had no idea that you get so much done before school drop off that it should be considered a day all its own. That just because you come home from work, doesn't mean that you are off. Second shift starts and before you know it, it is eight o'clock and the kids had popcorn and soda for dinner and homework still isn't done. It never occurred to me that you see so little of your babies every day, and that you don't even realize it most days because you are just trying to get to the end of that day. And I would have never believed you if you had explained the underlying guilt that you live with because of that.

I'm sorry working mom. I'm sorry for being such a privileged brat. I'm sorry for thinking that I had such problems. I'm sorry that I never really listened to the longing in your voice, the one that thought the grass on my side of the fence was just a little greener. I'm sorry I never asked how you were doing, how you were making it through the hard days and the short nights before the littles went to sleep. I'm so sorry that I was such a shitty friend. That it took me becoming a working mom to figure out that maybe you aren't perfect and that you don't have it all figured out either. That maybe we have always had that in common. Maybe we aren't so different after all.

I get it now. I get all of it, and I hope that you will forgive me. I hope that you will forgive me and share trade secrets and tell me that in the end it's not so bad.

Even if it is bad. Just lie to me. I kind of deserve it.

Thick and Thin

Saturday was a day for friends.
Every year I try and extend my birthday for as long as possible, Saturday we hosted a BBQ at our house. I did the invite of the moment, which is creating an event on Facebook, and invited people I hadn't seen in more than a year. I invited neighbors (who are now friends) and family too, but mostly it was a chance to invite some people who just might have the time to road trip to Fresno for a Saturday afternoon.
Of course not everyone on the list came. We are older now. We have kids in baseball and soccer, dance and gymnastics. It's not as easy to drum up some spare time on a Saturday afternoon anymore. Saturday was once a day for recovery, before you went out and did it all over again. Saturdays spent in bed, with last nights mascara, and a gin and tonic aftertaste. Those Saturdays are far behind me now, and far behind most of my friends. And it doesn't really bother us. We have found our grooves in this adult life. But sometimes those grooves don't allow for friendships as strong as they used to be.
Friendships give off the appearance of ease. But like with any relationship they are work, they require attention and love. Every year I make a pact with myself to be a better friend. I need to communicate better, to call more, to write more letters, to have fun text conversations about anything and everything. And every year this alludes me. I say things like "Life gets in the way" or "I have no time for anything", but that's not the whole truth. I have time. I blog. I Instagram as if I'm on their payroll. I watch my favorite shows on their designated nights. I read about 60 books a year. The truth is, I do have plenty of time to be a better friend.
Saturday, two of my very dear friends spent the day in my back yard. We laughed until we cried. We told stories about the "old" days. Memories that we have because we grew up together. Because we matured together. Stores of drunken debauchery. Stories of nights almost forgotten. There is something sacred in the stories you share in the most formative part of your life. No one else knows those stories. They can hear them, or hear about them, but they will never taste that memory like the one you shared it with. It was almost magical. As if we hadn't aged at all, as if we would always be twenty three or twenty four. As if we would never marry that guy, or take that job, or ever drink that much again. It was good for the soul and it was good for the sake of those friendships that so very sturdy and steadfast, despite the miles and the years between us.
I had a renewed faith in friendship on Saturday night. Friendships are about the thick and the thin. Some years friendships are thick with life and love. They are at the forefront. They are the first priority instead of the last. Other years friendships are thin. They are there, on your heart and in your mind, but the attention paid to them is scarce. Is there ever the possibility for balance? What is it about good solid friendships that survive the thick and the thin? How do those friends make the cut? Could it be that they were always destined to be your friends. That your paths crossed for a very simple reason: to be friends. I have friends, that are solid and steadfast. Friendships where the miles and the years don't matter. Friends that I love and have loved for a while. We have memories that will never fade, as long as we can recall them together. That the good old days will always remain between us. Maybe as we recall the good times we make new memories. We remember how good it feels to be in each others company and make more of an effort to get together for dinners and birthdays. Call each other just because, or send a card because it reminded you of them. Some friendships have the ease of years behind them. And those are the friendships that mean the most.
Monday night another friend's Dad passed away. It was shocking and sudden and all of the horrible things you can imagine. My first thought was to text her, to tell her how very sorry I was, how I had no idea what she was going through. My second thought was that she may not return that text, because we haven't seen each other in over a year. We live in the same city. She is one of my dearest friends I've had since moving to Fresno all those years ago. She was the first of all my friends to hold my daughter. And yet, life, hers and mine, have gotten in the way. Why would she return my text? Too little too late? But she is one of those friends, the ones that don't count the years or the miles. We went back and forth for a few minutes. Just enough time for me to tell her that I loved her. That I was thinking and praying for her. That whatever she needed, I'd do it, or be there to support her in it. I told her that I didn't even have the right words, and that I was sorry for that too. And she accepted it all. Regardless of time. Regardless of previous efforts or lack there of. Because there is something so sacred about friendships that start out when you least expect it, with people who may seem so different from you, but who, in reality are just like you in so many ways, and it just works.
Friendships can withstand the tests of time, marriage, and children, but you have to want them to. They can weather the storms of divorce or separation, the death of a loved one, or a parent. Friendship is just as hard and just as important as any relationship. I think we forget that. I think we get lost with the dynamics of friendships when they surpass late nights at the bars, sneaking back in to the sorority house, or road trips to nowhere. As adults, we get lost on how to foster our friendships without the obligatory dinners or nights out. We forget that the smallest gestures are the most important.
The best friendships live in the careful, watchful middle of the thick and the thin. That almost grey glow, between daily phone calls and every three month dinners. The glow of baby announcements and Christmas Cards, and ahey it's your birthday, and I'm thinking of you text messages. Thankfully I'm lucky to have put down roots with some pretty spectacular people. Who don't let things like miles and time cloud what has always been, the love between two friends.

How a book established a friendship

Last week I posted this picture in Instagram. It was and is a lovely book. A treasure in my eyes. It's the book that Julia Child and Louisette and Simone are working on in Julie and Julia. A movie that I just adore, because who can say no to Amy Adams (seriously go watch Leap Year, now), but I'm not a cook. Not really and while I would have loved to display this book, I'm not a decorator either. I'm just a book worm, who loves to spend mornings in my local used bookstore. But this book will hold a special place in my heart, because it really did establish a friendship.
The crazy thing about blogging is that you interact with people that you may never meet. It's fun to get shout outs from your favorite "big" bloggers, but it's even more satisfying to have conversations with bloggers you have come to know and love. It's funny that I've taken to talking about some of my bloggy friends as if they are my friends in real life. As if I just got off the phone with them. That's what blogging does. It sets the foundations for not just interactions and contacts, but for actual friendships.
What I can't really explain to most is the community that I have entered. It's not a clique, or a secret club, it's more of a neighborhood. A bunch of women, with kids, without, crafty, or artistic, bookish, nerdy, beautiful, fashionable. Yet, we all like each other. We all tweet and facebook and comment on each other's blogs. We give encouragement. We pray. We love each others kids. It's crazy. It's unreal. Last year, I wanted to meet up with another blogger in Southern California so we could road trip to a conference. My husband was appalled. He could not believe that I would go to someones house I had never met and just get in her car. When I tried to explain that I knew her through her blog, he claimed that she could be a serial killer. But Babe, I said, I read her blog, I see her kids on Instagram, we tweet. It's totally cool. I know her.
Because I felt like I really did.
So that brings me to the book. I had recently exchanged numbers with Tricia so we could text. Can I just say how fabulous this is? Getting a text from someone you normally tweet is so much fun. So imagine my surprise when I get a flurry of texts from Tricia. Am I still at the bookstore? What does the book look like? Hello? Where are you? So I text her back and soon find out that that book up there is a highly sought after book. Especially if it has the copy write date of 1961, which it did. Then a text later revealed that they are being auctioned on Ebay for a queens ransom. I had to get the book. Pronto!
I go back to the store, kids in tow, and race up the staircase... Yes, staircase, and it's as fabulous as it sounds.. I find the book, open to the main page and call Tricia. No answer. So I leave a message. Hey it's me, Megan, I got your book, call me. And when I hang up I think... She has never heard my voice. I have never heard hers. This is like some twisted blind date situation.
It's what happened when she called me back that is amazing. Tricia and I talk. Like we have known each other for years. When she tells me about her day, I already know the details because of Instagram. When we talk about her life, I already know details because of her blog. When I offer advice, she receives it, happily, because she reads my blog. And just like that, this friendship, that was established in social media, is then defined in real life. As if we were neighbors and I was picking up some milk for her.
What I love most about this story is that I gave no thought about going the extra mile for Tricia. I wanted to do it, because I already knew she would do it for me.

Girls Night Out {Just Because}

Because we don't see each other often enough. Because we have kids and husbands and now school schedules to keep.
Because everything is better with cheesecake. We had a GNO, which was long over due. We laughed at our server. We laughed at the overwhelming menu. We laughed at our crazy lives, with it's soundtrack composed of crazy kids. We laughed with each other. But it wasn't enough time. It never is. Because we could have talked until dawn. And not so long ago we did. In the bottom bunk of our room in our sorority house. All three of us in one bed. Laughing and whispering and dreaming. But now so often the days can run together. The moments are fleeting. And the years go by like a flash. But somethings never change. Like the love between friends. Because time is no match for friendships like these. That withstand every test.

You look like one of THOSE bloggers...

This is exactly what my BF said the other day. It's like the first thing she said to me when I answered the phone...
Ok, well not exactly...

It went like this:

Me: Hello?

BF: Hey big blogger, congrats on your guest post!

Me: Well Thank you!

BF: But you know that your pictures on that post make you

look like one of those bloggers

that has her shi*t together right?

Me: Crap!

She is totally right. Our family pictures make me and my family look like one of those bloggy families. Like I'm one of those bloggers. The ones who know how to correctly frost a cup cake with one of those piping bag thingies. The ones whose kids have a bed time, bed time routine, and sleep in their own beds. One of those bloggers that has a clean house. An organized house. One of those bloggers who looks like she stepped off a Pinterest board every day.

And for my next trick I'm going to get this baby to nap without a bottle!

I don't care that this child is about to rip out my earring
which will destroy my earlobe...
I'm too busy being obnoxiously cute and sassy.

Can we photo shop the bottle out?
I need this to scream perfection...
NOT!

I am not one of those bloggers. I promise. Friday night my kids ate cuties, trail mix, and french toast sticks for dinner. There are currently at least 5 loads of laundry calling my name. On Friday I didn't shower. I wore jeans with Oreo cream on the back of the leg... Which I didn't notice until I was using the bathroom. Oh, and yes, I use the bathroom.

So to further convince you that I am just a regular mom, here are some choice pictures of AbsoluteMommy in my AbsoluteLife...

This is me blogging. In my nerdy glasses.
Notice the messy desk.
That's my hubby's biggest pet peeve...

This my friends is my kitchen junk drawer.

Yes that's a diaper, a rubber ducky, hair bands,

and lots of junk. You're so jealous right now, right?

This is my pantry.

That was organized until the

Christmas Bake-off Challenge of 2011.

We are always going to re-organize then...

The Kardashians are on, or something!

This is AbsoluteMommy in real life.

Dirty hair = bigger than life bump/poof pony tail.

Note to self: check the back of pony you look almost alien like!

Plaid shirt + jeans

Leopard flats to "dress" it up.

Messy desk.

Me trying to take self pics with my little helper.

NO MAKE-UP!!

This is my AbsoluteLife, friends. I don't want to steer you any other way. I'm always gonna be real and honest on my blog. I want you to do the same while visiting AbsoluteMommy. This mothering stuff is no joke! This is how I roll, and I'm gonna own it! And maybe I'll clean the pantry today... But the Kardashian's are on...

Happy Blogging,

Megan

Linking up with one of my favorites!

Kristine at The Foley Fam {unedited} 4 and Counting!

Go and give her some love and LINK UP!

Happy Birthday to Me!

Absolute Mommy is one year old today!

Can you believe it?

No, really... I can't believe it either!

It went by so fast.

I had so much fun.

I met some amazing bloggers! This blogging community rocks!

In celebration the lovely ladies at the letter 4 have generously created this printable to help me celebrate!

Yes, those, the letter 4 gals! The ones with the amazing blog, with the amazing tutorials on crafts and hair, with the endless inspiration, and yes the ones who were on MARTHA!! Yeah, THEE Martha!

What started out as some tweeting over Twitter has turned into a bloggy friendship. Their support has been phenom, and they are genuine. You can feel it.

So THANK YOU the letter 4! I cried happy tears when I got this in my email! This printable is my motto. It's what I use to get inspired. To get right with what's happening in my world. To push through the bad and to highlight the good. Just like Dori, my favorite fish, when life gets tough, what do we do? We blog, we blog!

To print click here!

So please celebrate with me! Print out this lovely printable, put it on your inspiration board, your fridge, on your mirror. Look and it and be reminded that no matter what happens, we just keep...

Happy Blogging,

Megan