Thanks to the recent move, the hellish winter, a newborn, and a never-ending toddler cold (maybe an exaggeration there), the only face-to-face adult interaction I have right now is Justin. I love him, but there are only so many womanly complaints you can bring to your husband’s attention before you become completely unattractive to him. So, I need to find a friend. It’s kind of hard, though, because no friend can match the friends and relatives I’m so desperately missing right now. Any new friend must meet a very specific set of criteria, most of which only come after years of friendship. But hey, I’ll try.
Any potential friend must not judge me, but must enjoy judging other people. I have to know that when I giggle at the mom with spit-up down her back even though I have spit-up down my own back, this friend will giggle along with me, then point out the spit-up on my own back and giggle some more. This friend should also not have a very strong olfactory sense or else just not mind the delicate combination of smells I might be rocking on any given day: a little bit of poop, a lot of spit-up, throw in some sour breastmilk, a bit of dog, and, let’s face it, I probably forgot to put on deodorant, too.
This friend must share the foolish conviction that baby wipes clean, disinfect, and sanitize EVERYTHING, because I’m not always around a sink and I don’t want to think about what’s left on those hands after they’ve been wiped.
I’d prefer this friend have children, but only really well-behaved children. Yeah, I know my kids are/will be monsters, but the point is the friend’s children will be a good influence on mine.
I’d like this friend to be a mind reader, because these days I rarely make it to the end of a sentence due to a combination of exhaustion and the ever-present impending toddler or baby disaster. Being a mind reader will also help this friend understand me when my verbal dyslexia takes over and I make no sense at all. Or, even worse, when my filter comes off and I accidentally say something bad without meaning to or even realizing what I said.
A potential friend should love my dogs but have a love/hate relationship with her own. I promise to do the same in return. This friend should love my children and be thrilled to receive fifty pictures a day of them and a streaming update of the type and amount of body fluids currently making the rounds in my house. Oh, and after hearing what was just wiped off the couch, this friend shouldn’t blink an eye at sitting on said couch. Because, of course, baby wipes successfully sanitized it. Duh. This friend’s house should carefully tread that fine line between messy and gross. Scattered toys? Cool. Moldy food? Gross. Unless it’s found under the car seat, then it’s totally understandable.
This friend should always be on the hunt for a bargain; actual need has nothing to do with a good deal. This friend should also have a ton of planned or half-finished projects and crafts laying around the house. Because we’re not just sitting around being lazy here. We’re productive. We’re supermoms, whatever that means.
A potential friend must not be above lying to children. (“Sorry, honey, the play ground is closed today” or “Here’s your
medicine special juice!”) This friend should enjoy a good child-based rant (“My child threw the WORST temper tantrum today. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him!”) but never, ever question my or her own unwavering, powerful love for the child. She should talk a big game about discipline but, really, crack at the sight of those big eyes filling with tears (unless it’s a temper tantrum).
This friend can also talk a big game about weight loss and diets, but must always be up for ice cream or crab rangoons. This friend should also give great fashion advice but not comment on the fact that 90% of my wardrobe is Old Navy t-shirts and leggings, most of which have lasted through two pregnancies so they’re comfortably loose. Seriously, I lost all but one pair of jeans in the move and it really hasn’t been an issue yet.
Hopefully this friend will have an extensive list of ridiculous pet peeves so I don’t feel like a bitch who’s just generally irritated by the world. A friend should also know exactly how to listen to an issue, sympathize, then give advice without making the friendship-fatal mistake of sounding like she would never DREAM of making that parenting mistake. And celebrity gossip is great and all, but any friend of mine should also be up for a conversation about whether or not The Man in the Yellow Hat is dating the professor and, seriously, how is he so rich? Harry Potter books and movies will also regularly be rehashed and this friend should understand the subtle implications of which Harry Potter stamp was on the envelope she just received. This friend should generally read a lot and be equally able to discuss Great Expectations and the latest trashy young adult novel (what? a dystopian world that the young misunderstood loner hero must save? gosh, I wonder how this will end!).
A potential friend should know all the words to the Fresh Prince opening song, love the Gilmore Girls, and have early 2000s rap songs, current pop music, and 90s country music on the same playlist on their iPod. She should think one of the best things about Christmas is watching Christmas Vacation and Elf.
I need a friend who isn’t shy about discussing womanly woes. It’s hard to compare your labor stories for the umpteenth time if someone gets squeamish at the mention of cervix dilation. She has to have stretch marks somewhere. I swear, if she shows up at the pool looking completely gorgeous in a bikini, the friendship is over. On the other hand, she should bemoan the loss of that bikini body and plan on getting it back at some point in the far future.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’m never going to find a friend who checks all these boxes. Except in Kansas, where they grew on trees. God I miss my friends and family 😦