The Ghost of Seasons Past

Standing around with two of my best girlfriends at my daughter’s 4th birthday party, I found some validation, enlightenment, and perspective (as much as one might muster amid a horde of tiny, rushing, screaming humans).

Basically the consensus went something like this:

1. Life darn near or slightly older than the age of 40 apparently consists predominantly of just getting through crisis after crisis and praying for a nap;

2. We see each other far too infrequently and need more girl time together…and haven’t the foggiest as to how to achieve it given the above.

3. We can still mostly remember a time when life was simpler and cocktails far more frequent.

4. It’s not fair parents aren’t allowed in bounce houses.

5. At least we had fun… Before.

I know it sounds grim and horrible, but a children’s birthday party at a bounce house is no laughing matter when you are overworked and haven’t slept.

Here’s the thing though: at least we’re not alone in this mess. We share our misery with many: the under-caffeinated, the parents of teething children, the workaholic career-driven who have scads of money but no time to spend it, the poorly-dressed… (Ok, seriously, mothers wearing visible thong underwear to children’s parties? Way to be classy! Sorry – I digress…)

Yes, this is a crock of pathetic ranting by women who know secretly that they probably wouldn’t exchange their past for their present, but this is about solidarity, dang it, and it is a sad state of affairs when our social mingling must be fit in between making sure junior isn’t run over by a myopic twelve year old.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what brings you together, it’s just good to know you have people who understand your place in the world and will tell you that you aren’t crazy, even if your world is clearly so.

God Bless Girlfriends!

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