Sunday, January 30, 2011

On Dating Friends

We had a nice mid-week family trip to the park the other day. Dave was off. I wasn't teaching. The weather was unseasonably warm. We ran some errands and stopped to let Aleida climb on the jungle gym.

We ran into a mom with a set of two-year-old twins. Conversation comes easy when the parents of 3 adorable kids get together. We chatted for a few minutes, long enough to get names and basic background information. I liked her immediately. She had an easy smile and a casual yet attentive parenting style. She seemed to appreciate Aleida's cuteness, even with the bias of a mom who spends much of her time with adorable squared. I admired her for parenting twins. She was good with conversation and told us she was relatively new to Greeley as well. Call it a minor girl crush, but I felt we had chemistry.

She started packing up her kids to go home. It was almost lunch time, after all. She said, "Well, nice to meet you. Maybe we'll see you at the park again sometime."

Before I knew it, I was picking her up. I invited her to our fledgling playgroup and asked for her e-mail address (the new version of getting digits). She gave it willingly, and I briefly wondered if it might be a fake. I waved goodbye and rejoined my family who had wandered to the goose pond, a little giddy at my own aggression in making a new friend.

Why does making friends at this age feel so much like dating? Can you relate to this? Is this unique to people who have moved around a lot, whose lives have been in flux and friends therefore temporary, at least from a proximity point of view? Maybe it's my job. I have colleagues, but see them rarely. Usually it's just me and the students. We don't have office parties and happy hours, just the occasional departmental meeting.

Since getting married, I've lived on both coasts, and finally feel somewhat settled in Greeley. I have enjoyed seeing different parts of the country, and the exploration has helped me define myself and where I belong. I'm happy to say that I feel like I belong in Colorado. It's good to be home.

Moving around has its disadvantages, however. The last few phases of my life have been temporary. This was especially true in New Jersey, where I knew that 4 years would be my max. No offense, New Jerseyites, but NJ was not a match for me. I did make a handful of lasting friends there and in Portland. Most fall into the facebook acquaintance category, but a couple of us stay more connected with regular phone calls and mutual hopes of visiting each other someday.

Now, back in Colorado, I am closer to some of my dearest, time-tested friends. Still, most are about an hour's drive away. We try to get together once a month or so, but on a day-to-day basis, I need a more local social group.

Having a child does make it easier to make friends. A kiddo gives you common ground and immediate conversation starters. "How old?" "What her name?" "Those are cute shoes!" However, sometimes I'll talk to a fellow mother for half an hour and never get her name, though I'll know her kid's name, age, favorite food, and the time of his last bowel movement. If all you can talk about is your kids, your friendship is going to be limited at best, tedious at worst. Also, I've learned this: a fellow mother does not a BFF make. And parenting does open up a whole new world of potential crazy and disagreement. Parenting is kind of like politics...it can be polarizing. I have certainly met mothers I hope to never meet again.

I am starting to make some good friends, mostly through my playgroup and other child-centered activities. Still, building those friendships is a slow process, especially because your first instinct is to talk about your kids. When is it okay to bring up hobbies, politics, relationships, sex, religious beliefs, life philosophies, hopes, dreams, disappointments? Will she think I'm weird if I invite her to dinner without her kid? Should I call her in the middle of the week just to day hello and see how her day is going? Do I come across as desperate if I ask for more time than the weekly established play date? What about going away for the weekend? Are we to the point where I can call her in a crisis? Can I cry/joke/fart/pee/lose my temper/gossip/complain/pick a wedgie in front of her yet? Should I hug her goodbye, shake hands, just wave?

You must have a level of attraction when making friends, just like when dating. I'm not talking physical attraction necessarily, but common hobbies, mutual respect, and relate-able lifestyles do mean something. I know that I make judgments about people, and I certainly find myself more "attracted" to some women than others. Chemistry is important in all kinds of relationships.

I'm lucky to have several cherished friends in my life, the kind who I could call in the middle of the night without hesitation. They might not be local, but our emotional ties trump physical proximity. Still, I'm looking to build a life here; for once this is not a temporary situation. My husband and I have good jobs, a great house, nearby family and plans to build community. So, I want to build the foundation for lasting friendships. It's nerve-wracking and exciting all at once. And yes, it's a lot like dating. Am I alone in thinking this?

As for the girl in the beginning of the story: She didn't come to playgroup, but we have e-mailed back and forth, and I have hopes that we will plan a time to hang out again, with our kids. We'll talk about their sleep habits and the joys and challenges of parenting. We might delve into our hobbies and how we met our husbands. Perhaps we'll meet a few times and the relationship will just peter out. But on the other hand, perhaps one day, maybe years in the future, we'll call each other just to say hello or we'll turn to each other during a difficult time in life.

Late addition to this posting, thanks to my super-mom, time-tested friend Johanna. Hilarious! http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/7148143/

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Boy or Girl?

I haven't written in over a year. I have thought about writing a lot, if that counts for anything. I have no real excuses except for a busy toddler, a move back to Colorado, setting up a home, 2 part-time jobs and many attempts to catch up with old friends and make new ones. So no real excuses but lots of reasons for my absence. Anyway, I'm back, with a new muse and a goal to write a substantial post at least once a week.

The muse is baby number 2, due June 8. Yes, this baby could also be born on June 1st. In fact, the doctor asked if I wanted to just schedule a c-section for a week before the due date. We're not going to--I'm leaving it up to chance--but it's still pretty coincidental, don't you think?

I'm almost to the halfway point (for normal term babies, not Aleida's timeline!), which means I have the exciting gender-telling ultrasound on Thursday. In 5 days I'll know what's cooking. Unlike some mothers who "just knew" or got some other sign about the sex of their spawn (what a great word...spawn...makes me think of cheesy alien movies), I am clueless. It could be an alien in there for all the instinct I have about it. The most asked question I get is, "Are you going to find out the sex?" My response is always, "Hell yes!" First of all, my aforementioned lack of instinct leaves me wondering. Secondly, while some people say they are waiting to be surprised, I figure it's a surprise no matter when you find out. And honestly, aren't there enough surprises inherent in giving birth? Thirdly, I want to bond with the idea of whatever I'm having, boy or girl.

Of course the follow-up question to the first one is, "Do you have a preference?" I think I can honesty say that I don't. If Aleida had been a boy, I think I would really want a girl. And sometimes, I get caught up on the idea of having one of each. We will probably stop at two, and I'm not one to keep trying til I produce one of each. A boy would be nice, just for the sake of having a son and knowing what he's like. Plus, there's something pleasing and symmetrical about a family with one of each. It makes for good family photos.

But then I think about how much I love having a sister. We talk about sex and menstruation and bodily functions. We go on sissy trips. We can hug and cuddle and it isn't weird. Maybe some brothers and sisters do that, but I just think there's a different level to the friendship that exists between siblings of the same gender. Plus, my daughter amazes and touches my heart. I am comfortable with her and can easily picture two little girls running around the house together. With another girl, I don't have to worry about circumcision or keeping the wiener clean or showing him how to aim into the potty or what I'll say the first time I catch him masturbating or how I'm going to feel when he starts prioritizing other women over me.

I know some women have strong preferences, and I'm thankful that I don't. My mother REALLY wanted me to be (and thought I was) a boy. I think she cried when I came out a girl. But look how totally awesome I am.

What it comes down to--and I know this will sound sappy--is that I will adore whatever child we create. Boy, girl, hermaphrodite...I will love it. I see benefits of both, and since I tend to see the good in situations, I will be easily convinced that whatever the ultrasound shows on Thursday is exactly what I wanted deep down inside.

Even still, I'm taking votes (or guesses). So far, I'm about 50/50, with maybe an extra vote or two for a girl. Dave, his mom, and myself have all had boy dreams. I don't think they are premonitions as much as our brains working over time. I'm not guessing it's a boy...I just had a dream. So, post your guess in comments. And thanks for reading.