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In a Party-pooper Mood
An Essay About Friendship By Jenn Director Knudsen
My birthday gift list this year is shorter than in years past.
It's not due to a physical death, but a spiritual one. That of a friendship.
Girls from a very young age tend to bond with one other and garner social and emotional strength from the single friend or few friends with whom they giggle, confide their true selves in and giggle some more.
This same pattern holds true as girls mature (perhaps with less giggling and more serious guffawing), and I believe this need in women only grows stronger once they become mothers.
Once I had my first baby, I felt quickly isolated. Days felt endless. The dirty diapers seemed ubiquitous. Mealtime for Baby seemed unceasing. Sleep was a sought-after though unattained desire.
There was no one similar enough to me with whom I could share my experiences, gain support, cry or talk with to relieve the sense of daily drudgery and fulfill the need to be connected to another woman living a parallel life.
That is, until my eldest began attending preschool two mornings a week. I became fast (and I mean fast) friends with three other moms who were equally desperate and grateful for that preschool program in which they'd enrolled their own 2-year-olds.
We went for coffee during our morning respite. We took walks together. We gabbed endlessly on the phone. We made each other meals and goodies. We e-mailed multiple times each day, even when out of town.
We sent cards in the mail at just the time one of us really needed the support. We grocery shopped for one another. We planned a night out for one another's birthdays months in advance.
And we exchanged little tchotchkes for special occasions and birthdays, of course.
Mommies first, we scheduled playdates for our children, and in the course of our glue-like, two-year friendship, our kids started loving each other, too.