Comfy Pants

One of my friends came over tonight to hang out and chat. She is one of my more favorite friends. I would use the term BFF, but it seems like I use that term for people who don't reciprocate. I end up feeling like I've been sucked back into middle school. In lieu of my recent problems with sleep, I hate to evoke images like that before heading to bed.

In any case, I've not had a chance to meet one-on-one with this person for a while. As often happens with my mom friends, schedules, illness and the unexpected stand in the way of regularly scheduled get-togethers. I'm fortunate to have a small handful of mom friends who are normal.

I know that word can be overused so I'll attempt to qualify. There are moms who maintain a strict schedule with their children everyday. They do arts and crafts with their children, take them on exploratory trips to museums and other places, attend reading time with them and schlep them to different activities. These moms also never stop gushing over their children. They seldom have a hair out of place, wear clothes that match and have no persistent stains on them, go to bed when they should and are generally cheerful most of the time.

Then there is normal. It may include some, if not all of the aforementioned attributes. The difference is that the attributes seldom occur all at the same time. It's also likely that the normal moms may use swear words, will admit to transforming into a fire-breathing dragon mommy and above all will allow you into their cluttered home.

These are my kind of people. They are the stretchy pants in my wardrobe of ill-fitting, activity-based acquaintances. I am the person who breaks out the stretchy, or comfy, pants as soon as I step in the door. It's not that my clothes don't fit--it's that I'm more comfortable moving around and being active in clothes that have some give.

It's the same with these friends. I'm past the point where I'm concealing the parenting incidents that might make some blush. They may not know all about that which makes me queasy but I give them broad strokes and they don't flinch.

It's rare to have those kind of friends-rarer still to have more than a couple. I am wealthy when it comes to friends. I've still not gotten used to having to re-make friends quickly. That happened from last year to this of preschool. Jeremy made friends with a few kids in his preschool class. We did a lot of play dates with these kids last year; this year I am not as available because I've got someone going to preschool every day. The moms of these boys are still lovely people but they aren't there every day; our availability is much different and the frequency of play dates has dwindled.

It was so wonderful to have my friend come over and not feel pressure to pick up a single toy, article of clothing or dish. I did conceal from her a pair of underwear I realized I was sitting on but that's just common decency, really. I'm a little embarrassed that she saw my bathroom (it's something about which I feel self-conscious but continue to not clean), but she didn't come out with her nose turned up.

It's just so great to focus on the conversation and not feel hung-up on everything else. I have a similar friend at dance class. It took us about a week and a half to realize our daughters were in the same preschool class and dance class (we're quite swift). Since that realization, we have spent every Monday chatting away through the entire class.

With normal moms, the conversation is free and easy. If you need to vent, they are the people to hear it without judgement. Need to make an inappropriate comment? They're the gals that will giggle and not recoil in horror. The time you spend with them passes much too quickly. You feel genuine disappointment when something unexpected causes a cancellation.

I actually proposed a "date" to my dance class friend today. We've not gotten to the point in our friendship where we hang for the purpose of hanging. There is always some anxiety when you cross into spending time with other moms sans children. I worry that I won't have enough to talk about (stop laughing, I really do worry about that), that they'll discover they really don't find me as interesting as I am when my kids are around. We'll see if we make that leap-it's tough to coordinate schedules when more than one children are involved. It has to be just the right time--when Dad isn't too frazzled to watch the kids, when you're not past the point of exhaustion, when none of said children is fighting off the plague.

I'm hopeful, though. She's normal enough that it could just work out.