A Note To Long Lost Friends

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I’m a mom. And as most moms know, its a crazy life we live. Married, in a relationship, or single….our ‘job’ is a crazy one. My relationship is…complicated at best. He works midnights, I work days. Our paths cross maybe an hour a day. And up until recently we were basically living two separate lives outside our home due to issues we won’t get in to. In short, it’s chaos around here.

As with most houses that involve co-parenting, things can also get difficult…..and hectic….ok, its fucking crazy here when its just me and the minions. This is the reason the majority of the time I can’t do much more than text or tweet. Much like the alarm that tells them when I’m on the toilet, there is also an alarm that tells them when I am on the phone. When my phone rings, the minions are there crawling over the receiver within 30 seconds of me picking up.

Since having kids I haven’t been able to carry on a full conversation with anyone while they’ve been awake. So if you want to tell me that you murdered someone and don’t want me to tell anyone…call me when my kids are awake. I literally have no brain power, what-so-ever, when they are stirring. Needless to say, I have since steered away from actually phone conversations while the minions are awake. The result of this is persistent texting and tweeting. It seems that now I almost always put all my phone calls to voice mail.

This saddens me because I miss my friends. I miss my family, even though they are easier to talk to when the minions are awakemainly because they can distract the minions on the phone. I’m not sure that my friends who don’t have kids fully understand this. To them, kids are just a ‘thing’. They don’t necessarily understand the  attention that goes into it. They don’t understand how exhausted your mind is by the time you tuck them into bed.

Every day, Monday through Sunday, I am going strong from 6:30 in the morning to 8:30 at night. And just because the minions are sleeping doesn’t mean that my job stops there. Between pee breaks and nightmares, my day can extend to a full 24 hours. So once these little people go to bed my mind is absolute mush and I just need quiet. I wish that I could explain to these people I have ‘lost’ contact with what I am going through without it sounding like a list of excuses and complaints. I wish I could explain to them that I can’t even poop without someone there to ask questions. I wish I could get them to understand that I’m not a flake who has shoved them to the side.

So to those of you who I have been ‘ignoring’, I’m sorry if I have made you feel like you don’t matter. I’m sorry if you feel as if I’ve been ignoring you. I’m sorry if you’ve felt like a text message isn’t enough. I’m sorry….period. I really do love you, and I hope that you understand that loving me involves loving the 2 little people who make it so difficult for me to actually pick up the phone and call you.

So this is me passing you the olive branch of friendship to ask for your forgiveness in my absence. Your friendship really does mean the world to me, and my life is less exciting without out. I truly love you all.

3 thoughts on “A Note To Long Lost Friends

  1. I actually feel like I could have written this post, almost word for word. I have a 45 minute commute, each way, to work . . . and I try to devote the afternoon commute, at least once a week, to calling people that I need to catch up with (because, as you well know, catching up with people, on the phone, is impossible when the kids are awake . . . and when the kids are not awake, it means that I have a bazillion other things to do so by the time I’d actually get to call someone, not only is my mind mush, but it’s also 2 in the morning).

    But, well, this afternoon commute is the one set of time that I’m guaranteed to have to myself (the mornings are, almost always, filled with conference calls). And I’m a selfish bastard, so I just exist. Heck, there are days that I drive home in complete silence because I know that, when I walk through the door, “silence” will be impossible.

    My best friend, since first grade, says that he understands why I’m so distant . . . but I’m really not sure he does. He tries — but “knowing” and “pretending to know” are very, very different beasts.


    • Ah yes…your commute. I almost miss my 45 minute commute for the ability to actually connect with people. Now I enjoy my 20 minutes of Tool blaring over the radio. Ah parenthood, people without kids will never understand our madness.


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