A nine-foot, greasy-haired, smirking intruder sneaked into the house last night and shaved Boobaby’s head. In other news, I’ve got a buddy!
The scary stalker was from a horribly bad dream I had last night. Working Mom & I compared notes this morning and it seems we both get dreams wherein we’re stalked: she by lions, I by sneaky, unfriendly, self-important people. Makes sense: I work with wild animals and kids, she works with adults.
The whole nightmare left me really fragile this morning. I make WM cover for me at a meeting with our lawyer — it’s some nasty house stuff that she (of course) handled magnificently, whereas I would have been reduced to a melted pile of jabbering goo. I got to handle a Boobaby who was fussy from the heat, but at least it wasn’t a lawyer. WM and I both think we got the best side of the bargain.
Still, it was clearly going to be a challenging day, so I knew we had to make it to the playground. As we arrived, I saw my friend in front, also on her way in. She waved, I waved, she emoted, I emoted, we shared babies for a while, and suddenly from being way off-balance and shaky I was on my way back to centered. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to feel like I’ve got a buddy at the playground. It’s better than coffee and Advil, my usual remedy.
Friendship is so funny. It can’t be created intentionally (ever try to make someone your friend when there was no chemistry?), but it also can’t be left entirely on its own. It just sort of happens, but it’s also cultivated. You can go for months without it and not feel its lack until it comes back into your life. And when it does, your life just balloons into a new, larger place.
To whom it may concern up there: Thank you, thank you, thank you.