As children, friendships can form with anyone, even the not-so-nice ones. I remember at the park watching my son approach two girls, proudly declaring himself “The Green Ninja.” They made a snarky comment and dashed away, yet he nonchalantly announced them as his friends later on.
School, especially middle school, is like a game of musical chairs. You jump into whatever group you can find to avoid being the last one left standing—alone at the lunch table. High school, too, is about finding friends, often with the word “boy” in front of it.
In college, friendships change again, leaning toward those who might leave you at a bar because they’ve met someone new—yes, often another “boy.” Throughout the years, you gather friends of all kinds, some closer than others. Eventually, you settle down, get married, and have kids—like I did. And amidst that journey, I was fortunate to meet you.
Over the years, you have grown to be my cherished friend, my confidante, and one of my few pals without kids. While we share countless experiences and maintain an authentically transparent bond, there’s something I’ve never voiced to you: I truly appreciate that you are childless.
When I was expecting, I was thrilled to think I’d secured lifelong friendships for both my child and myself. However, I soon discovered that kids don’t always get along. My son, for example, is a bit of a whirlwind and can struggle in certain environments, particularly those that overwhelm his senses.
Moreover, spending time with other moms often revolves around discussions of sagging bodies and organic baby food, and actual meet-ups can be tricky. Playdates frequently get canceled due to sick little ones or their equally sick moms. Nowadays, kids have busier schedules than most adults—between karate, swim lessons, and family visits, they are like mini-celebrities, and us moms are merely their agents.
But you? You show up at every baby shower and birthday party. On my worst days, you’re the first person I call. My children adore you, and you understand my son like few others do. With you, I can candidly share my parenting blunders without fear of judgment.
In essence, you are like my trusty clear nail polish. Did you know that having clear nail polish handy is a lifesaver? It can prevent shoelaces from fraying, keep buttons from coming undone, and even stop runs in stockings. You can seal envelopes, tighten loose screws, waterproof matches, and fix window screens. You’re my go-to fix for life’s little messes, always there to talk things out when they don’t go as planned.
We’ve shared numerous adventures, and you’ve witnessed me navigate the daunting world of marriage and motherhood. You’ve seen me break down and contemplate running away, and without your support, my marriage would likely be rusted while my children would be the loose screws. I’d probably be a wet match!
What I’m trying to say is that you would undoubtedly excel as a mother if you ever choose that path. But between us, I’m grateful for your current situation. How could I possibly manage my family without you?
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In summary, I treasure our friendship more than words can express. Your presence in my life makes everything a little brighter and more manageable.