It has just been, cold. What really is there to say about the fact that cruel and cold go together somewhere in the language for a reason? And where my general approach to winter is to embrace it enough not to be stuck inside, this round, I pretty much wanted to stay in bed.
A very extremely social weekend saved me from that (delicious as staying in bed all weekend sounds, I don’t think it’d be my best bet right now). Saturday morning, I went to Sunnyside for our semester’s “cleaning party” commitment. The preschool’s a cooperative and this is one example of how. The cleaning conflicted with a birthday party for one of Saskia’s preschool pals. I’d said to my dear husband the night before: Noisy happy preschool party or cleaning party—take your pick. He chose ebullient children. There’s a party aspect, definitely. While cleaning, I caught up with a friend I totally adore and met a fellow parent I totally enjoyed and chatted up others I also like very much.
Later that evening, we went to two parties: one for a friend’s turning 50, the next for another friend’s turning 40.
The first party belonged to someone in my ersatz mothers’ group. Ersatz because we didn’t come together when the kids were tots. No discussions of diapers. It was more like second or third grade. We met for drinks and evolved into meeting—those elementary kids are high school students now (gasp)—every couple of months at the birthday girl, er, woman’s, I mean—house for important gatherings that seem naturally—okay, fueled by gimlets—to balance laughter and sharing about the huge rocky road that is life: parents’ frailties, career twists, marriages breaking, marriages enduring, kids struggling, our struggling as parents. Just as we never really did diapers, imagine that even through the sharing about so much intractable toughness, hilarity ensued. Any detail I’d offer here would be an inside joke.
Anyway, the party involved bringing a song to sing. One of our esteemed members wrote a terrific parody, which we performed with way more heart than polish. Like our meetings, actually, the structure buoyed the evening in such a way that it was truly fun to hold even the harder stuff. You cannot ask for more from friends than that. I left (early, I was party-hopping, remember?) so grateful to be reminded of that truth, and so appreciative to have ended up spending some actual significant part of my last number of years amongst these women.
The next party, for one of my hubby’s high school-and-beyond pals, was less raucous (by far—give him a decade, maybe he’ll get there) and delicious in both food and friend senses. His friends had contributed to a wonderful video for him, at turns funny and deeply moving. I had a mini-coffee date in the midst of it with a kindred spirit I’d been determined to get to know better (and vice versa). It was also the first social gathering we’d been to with other most lovely friends without our children in the entire year since they’d moved (back, for the high school half of the marriage) here.
We continued from there. Sunday afternoon, we cleared away chaos (relegated to other rooms, mostly) and put out treats and others brought more treats to welcome our friend Amy (already possessing many nicknames in our household). Many of the folks at this gathering are real Facebook friends (er, borderline addicts) so pithy one-liners sprung to life—and then some. Here’s how I know it was actually a great party (besides the fact that I had a delightful time): no one took photographs. We were too busy talking to one another. Contrary to the disdainful social media is wrecking our social skills commentary we all still knew how to do that. The people in my dining room and kitchen on Sunday are ones I enjoy—and wouldn’t know nearly so well or so comfortably if not for our virtual banter. Turns out I’m so grateful to know them.
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The message here is that friends count for a lot.
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I’m reminding myself about this incredible warm richness, as I feel cold, menaced by snow, more than a little frustrated about my work, and generally a little blue. Saskia’s about to turn three (she is very, extremely excited about her birthday) and I’m excited with her. I do not want a baby in my house, but I held one for a while yesterday (at a meeting) and it was the best part of my day, hands-down. Babies are grounding (exhausting, helpless and endlessly cute) and I have to remember to get me some baby time more regularly. And tackle or simply experience the blue moment.
And remind you lovely readers to vote for Standing in the Shadows, please (you must vote for ten altogether for your ballot to count). I’d love to be the Best Local Blog.
