Children Change Everything

My best friend *wondering if that's true anymore since we don't talk so much these days* is home because his grandma died. It's odd because I can feel the unspoken things between us. I asked twice tonight why his partner didn't make the trip with him and received no response. Crazy. And he doesn't look well, which kind of worries me. I want to get into it with him, but it's hard with the girls with me.

He called as soon as he had gotten in yesterday (Monday). I was so excited to hear that he was here although the circumstances sucked. M had a group therapy appointment that afternoon so I decided, in my spontaneous wisdom, to invite R to come and have some coffee with me at Timmy's while M was in group. I was thinking we would be there for an hour and that would be that. Ha. Two hours later we're still sitting there, waiting on M. Of all the days for his group session to run late, eh.

I know how much my life has changed since becoming a mom, but sometimes it really hits home. Yesterday with R was one of those days. There we sat in Timmy's, Mak in a highchair and Grace beside her and R, and it just felt...odd. I mean, R has been around Grace a few times since she was born. But this was the first time he and Mak had met. Strangely enough, Mak took right to him, which is completely out of character for her.

It was a bit strained for me because I kept thinking that he didn't really want to be there with me and the girls. Me, yes. Grace, yes. But I got the vibe that Grace and Mak were just a little too much. Maybe it's because he isn't around kids. Or maybe it's because I remember his response when I told him I was pregnant for Mak. I don't know, but things were so different.

At one point I said, "So, what do you think, R?"

He looked at me and then at the girls. "I think you have a family."

Ah, I have a family. And I do, don't I. And it's amazing to me just how much that can change things so drastically.

For instance, he asked me if I was going to be at the funeral tomorrow and I said, "Oh, I don't know. The girls have doctor appointments at the ass crack of dawn and I have to be at Grace's school at eleven."

And it was hard to sit and talk with him because the girls always needed constant attention, both at Timmy's and at the funeral home. I realized exactly how hard it is to have an adult conversation with tiny children around. It's damn near impossible.

And that makes me sad because I miss him. Granted, this wasn't the happiest occasion, but I was so glad to see him. I want nothing more than to be able to sit and chain smoke with him about nothing for hours. But I can't.

He introduced me to his aunt tonight. "Janet, this is my best friend Amy." She remembered me from years ago (I have known R for literally half of my life). She asked, "Are you the friend he has had for years and years and years?"

And that's just it: I am the friend he has had for years and years and years. But it's different now.

I was in the tub this evening getting ready to head to the funeral home and began thinking about it all. I was hit with the realization that we probably wouldn't be best friends anymore if he still lived here because shit is so different. Not only is there the issue of the girls, but there's M too. He respects my relationship with R and that has never been a problem (Especially since R digs men. Ha), but R isn't used to there being a M. He's used to the old single Amy who used to sit around and smoke dope and talk about the big adventure, sometimes drunken sometimes not, from the night before. He's used to the old "fly by the seat of your pants" Amy who didn't have a care in the world and whose furniture came from the thrift store because furniture meant responsibility and commitment.

And that Amy doesn't exist anymore.

Well, she wants to exist but The Universe seems to keep her from it. You know, the old Amy got a hair up her ass the other day to put a hoop in her nose. I haven't worn my nose ring for years (actually since the birth of Grace), minus a day here and there, but was overcome with the urge to get back to it. After all, I've had the hole in my nose for fourteen years; my nose ring used to be such a part of me.

So I bought the hoop and I put it in. It was too large so M and I worked off and on one evening to get it squeezed together so it would hug my nose. And then, of course, my nose was a bit sore from all of the unfamiliar activity. I tried to take the ring out Saturday night and I couldn't get the squeezed together so it would fit in my nose hoop unlatched. Yeah, it sucked. No worries though because tonight I sat with a pair of tweezers on the inside of my nose and a pair of fingernail clippers on the outside of my nose and pulled until I thought my nose would rip in two. But I got the sucker unlatched and removed. *high fives*

The fact remains that I do have a family now and that is the most important thing to me. R's brother made a beeline to talk to the girls tonight. After telling me that Grace had given the lowdown on her and Mak's ages, birth dates, and jewelry, *smile*, he said, "Ya know, Amy, that right there is what it's all about. They ground you and make you smarten up. They make it real for you." And I nodded at him and said, "You're preaching to the choir, man." Because they do ground me. And they do, indeed, keep it real.

The funny thing is, as I was making my way around the corner to get to mom and the girls, I ran into a cousin of R's and his wife. His wife stopped and said, "OMG! You're the Janis Joplin singer!" I laughed and said, "I was, yes." She remembered me from the bar and went on and on about my singing and what it did for her. She asked where I was singing and I told her that I had given it up when I started having babies four years ago. "That's sad," she said. "You really need to get back into it." And I suppose that I do. But not now.

I have a family who relies on me and wouldn't know what to do if mom was in bed all day because she'd been out gigging in a bar until four in the morning. They wouldn't know what to do if mom wasn't here to play a nighty night game or read the third nighty night story or fix the nighty night snack.

And it's oddly sad to me that having kids can put such a distance between you and the world of the old. When R promised Grace that he would come by tomorrow night and play charades with her, I made a point of telling her on the way home that I hoped he would but there was a chance he would be too busy to stop by before he went back to Georgia. And I wanted to tell him to not make promises to my girl that he didn't intend to keep because she was *my* girl and I demanded more than that for her. But I didn't. Some things are best left unsaid. *roll eyes*

So the fact remains that I do have a family. And I do have to get them up at the ass crack of dawn tomorrow to go to the doctor for their annual check-ups. And I do have to go to Grace's school tomorrow. And I can't have a meal without having two others eating from my plate. And I can't sit and have an adult conversation because there is always at least one child to entertain. And it is sad that I can't take one day a week to be the old Amy who totes a silver hoop in her nose, dresses in tie dye shirts and sings her ass off in bars. But for now I'm okay with it. A bit sentimental, but okay.

And I am also going to put the last load of laundry of the night in the dryer now and head upstairs to bed.