I try not to be jealous, to covet things others have, to be grateful for what I do have, and generally I’m on top of it. I love my home. I have more than I need. My family and I are healthy, have food on the table, and make ends meet.
But there’s one thing that gets me every. single. time: friendships. Specifically, friendships among adult women. Moms who can send their kids to each other’s homes, who can call and say, “I’m popping by with a bottle of wine and pizza,” who plan mom-cations together. The ones whom you can call and say, “We’re going crazy! Meet at the park?”
A few weeks ago I had an especially rough day. August is tough. The days seem terribly long, school hasn’t yet started, there are a lot of needs to be met, activities don’t seem to take enough minutes to make a dent in the day. And there it was, right in front of my face—the straw that broke me. As I needed support, a friend, a mom to lean on, I saw:
- A at the pool with B (via Instagram post)
- C at the coast with a group of 10, sans kids and husbands, for the second time this summer (thank you, Facebook)
- D and E Snapchatting from the park
- F at the movies
- G making homemade ice cream with the neighbor kids while their mom ran errands, after which she’d enjoy a date night tonight
- H at the river with a gaggle of moms and kids
Color me all the shades of green Crayola makes!
So I had a little cry and made some macaroni to fill the loneliness I felt creeping in. But I couldn’t help but wonder, Is it me? Am I hard to be friends with? Do I look too busy? too boring? Is it my kid? Why didn’t anyone text ME to go to the park? Why don’t I have a group to go to the beach with?
And yes. YES. I know I should put on my big girl panties and make the calls. I should be the one to text. Good golly, people are busy! Then they cancel. And for the longest time I was the only one who EVER planned anything, so when I stopped because it was exhausting, the get-togethers stopped too.
Please don’t get all “first world problems” on me. I feel how I feel, and I know I can’t be alone. The only solution I see is stepping up to be the planner again, and I’m not sure I’m up for that right now. Right now I need to be a receiver, the one who is texted and called. Right now I want to be needed and wanted for something other than a business transaction or as a mom or wife.
Pass the chartreuse, please. It’ll be a nice change from the olive I picked yesterday.