To all the wonderful mom friends who put up with me for all those years while also trying to raise your real children:
1
I’m sorry I rolled my eyes when you told me to show up for dinner by 4:30pm if I wanted to see your kids before they go to bed. I’m sorry I then sarcastically called it “brunch” in all of our further conversations about it.
2
I’m sorry I huffed when you gave me a precise 15-minute window of talk time but then wouldn’t commit to it a hunny percent. Now I get it.
3
I’m sorry I was flabbergasted when you told me you hadn’t seen a movie in a year and didn’t even know what was playing in the theaters. I’m embarrassed to admit that I actually thought to myself, “What’s the point of life if you can’t even enjoy a good movie once in a while?”
4
I’m sorry I wondered why your car was always full of nasty crumbs and smeared things, and why you couldn’t just take the time to keep it clean and/or teach your kids to be neater eaters. I’m really sorry about this one, and very humbled.
5
I’m sorry I judged you for having blueberry seeds in your teeth from that one smoothie you treated yourself to once a week after yoga when I now know that you did not give a fuck if you had blueberry seeds in your teeth or anything on your clothes, in your hair, or on your face, for that matter. You were just trying to get through the day alive.
6
I’m sorry I didn’t babysit for you much, much more often. I did not understand at the time that just having a trustworthy person at your house while your kids sleeps is a priceless opportunity for you to go out for one glass of wine with your husband and that that one glass of wine is like paradise on a Saturday night… if you can stay awake for it.
7
I’m sorry I didn’t bring you casseroles and soup constantly for like the first two years of your kid’s life. I really should have done that.
8
I’m sorry I wondered why you took 45 minutes away from our dinner together to sit next to the bathtub while your kid played with bath toys quietly by himself. I’m also sorry I wondered why you treated his bedtime like a solemn and sacred ritual that could not be fucked with, and why you couldn’t just skip it once in a while to give me, a grown woman, some attention.
9
I’m sorry I nagged you all the time to get a bigger trash can for your kitchen so it wouldn’t constantly be overflowing but didn’t just buy you a bigger trash can like a good girl.
10
I’m sorry I showed up for Thanksgiving dinner with only booze and one measly side and then ate all your delicious, incredible, thoughtfully prepared food while drunk and mooning about how woefully single I was.
I’m really sorry. I get it now. And I love you for still being my friend!
Do you want to come over for dinner sometime? It would have to be at like 3:45 in the “evening” and you would need to bring the dinner, of course. And some wine? And I might have to cancel last minute, with no real explanation, either because my kids are acting feral or because we’re all sick again or because I just didn’t get any sleep the night before and I can’t deal.
And on the off chance it does work out, I will probably disappear for a while to put my kids to bed. That only takes about 2.25 hours, don’t worry. As long as you don’t make a peep while it’s happening, we should be good. We don’t have TV, but you can listen to records on a very low volume while you’re waiting for me. Please stick to the classical music or the 70s folk—everything else is too jarring for bedtime. I’ll probably be drunk after a half a glass of wine and have to go to bed by 8:30.
Does that sound fun? See you then! (maybe)
