On Being a Mother and a Friend

I did not expect becoming a mom to make me feel like the worlds worst friend, but here we are. Hyperbole aside, it is hard balance anything with parenting. And I did not think I'd be that mom. You know, the one who leave behind her old life to be fully engrossed in motherhood. I assumed I'd be able to juggle it all and make it work, but sometimes something has to give. In my case, it seems like it was much of my social circle.

Now, friends, please know that this is not a reflection of how we're in different places and how I have changed, but a little bit of it is... At this moment in time I've got to keep two small human fed and cared for. I've got a household to maintain. I mean, I'm barely maintaining it, but I'm giving it my best shot. I've got a husband who also requires some love and attention. There's work too. I have to take two seconds a day to breath. It seems like when it comes to the balancing act, friends often fall to the wayside. Friends and self care. 

The reality of it is that I cannot be that flexible. It is a crap ton of work to haul kids out of the house. Both of them are mobile now--that only further complicates things. They have loose schedules and need naps. I haven't slept a full night in years so being out late is hardly do-able. And you're busy too! And you probably don't want to hang out with kids all the time, which is fine by the way. I swear, friends, I have not forgotten about you. I know we said we need to get together and we make loose happy hour plans or talk about the next weekend, but it is hard to make it work. 

In the back of my mind, those plans that didn't quite make it to fruition and the plans that got cancelled and the calls that we didn't end up making, they're all back they're. And, let me tell you, it can make a gal feel real sad when it gets to the point that your social circle moves on. I can still see the posts about getting drinks, and surely you know I can't come and so you don't bother to text because who knows if I'll even reply, but that stings. And yet I understand where you are coming from. 

Here's the thing though. I know this is one of so-called seasons of life. It is a time that seems to very long in the moment, but ultimately it is so very short. Soon a bunch of you will have babies too. And maybe some of you will take a step back and say "oh, dang... Ali was right," or maybe you'll just be way better at balancing it all than I am. But I'll still be around. And I'll be happy to pick up where we left off and bring you food and cuddle your new baby while you take a shower or something.

Mustache Night at Optimist Club. Hotel Congress,  January 2013

Mustache Night at Optimist Club. Hotel Congress,  January 2013

We grow up and we grow apart. It is the nature of the beast. Motherhood, maybe even just being an adult, can feel really empty and lonely sometimes. That nostalgia for the good 'ol days sneaks up. I mean, I'm definitely too old for Mustache Night at Optimists Club and I have to pump if I'm away from the baby too long, and we all know that the Club Congress bathroom is not set up for that. But also, we're just not in that place in our lives anymore and maybe that's a good thing in some ways.

So my dear friends, please know I think of you all the time. Truly, you're in the back of this overtired and crowded brain. Sometimes I even manage to shoot you a text. Sometimes you reply. But, don't think you can't call. Don't think you can come to our toy-ridden house for dinner sometime. I miss you, and I'm not sorry that things have changes as much as I am sorry that life doesn't allow us the keep all the best people as close by as we'd hope.