I'm a loser, are you?

It’s been a long time and while I could likely weave a story or two about why – suffice it to say that there has been some self examination and purging going on.

We all know how I feel about my friends.They are the bestest ever. I love them and consider myself rich because of their presence in my life. They are a blessing. For me, my friends are the foundation on which I’ve built my chosen family. Without a doubt, we learn from our friends but our lives are also so enriched by lessons are often hidden in the laughs, the suggestions (gentle or otherwise), the time simply spent together resulting in changes in attitude, behavior or even opinion. 

But what about friends that are lost? What happens when you lose a friend? These are also folks you spent time with, shared ideas, heard their ideas – maybe considered them a blessing. Did the ending of the friendship turn into a lesson instead of a blessing? 

What do we take away from friendships that go sideways? Some friendships are based on things that change over time and for whatever reason they cannot be sustained. You may run into one another once in a while or still trade holiday cards – these have fizzled out but the memory is a reasonably warm one. Other friendships end because someone was a jackass. Now – it may be the other person or it may be you (we’ve all been there, just own it) – but regardless, the friendship can’t move past the jackass factor and these friendships likely went out in a blaze of glory. 

Let’s be clear, I’m not talking about friendships that ended because someone doesn’t support a life choice or those who truly belittle your beliefs. I’m not talking about friends who feel it’s their job to tell you the “facts” or be brutally “honest” when all they really have is closed mind and a strong opinion. I’m not talking about those “friends” who are only around when times are good and they can enjoy the ride. Those “friends?” Fuck those people – they don’t deserve you. Because, really – life is too short for crappy friends.

I’m talking about those folks with whom we establish a friendship, a relationship – some level of connection or commitment. We invest in that relationship – and then it ends.This isn’t like the ending of a romantic relationship, where hearts are broken and men (or women, hey, whatever floats your boat) are declared turds and you’ll never love again. A friendship ending is different – friends are supposed to be there no matter what, aren’t they?

I’ve come to believe that the answer is no. We change, we grow – we tolerate less – or more. There is some shift, in attitude or behavior that simply makes the friendship unsustainable. As painful as it may be (and it does hurt – in a deep and different way than a romantic loss,) these friends – or former friends – can teach us valuable lessons. Regardless of the duration of the friendship, these are people that came into our lives for a reason. 

Years ago, I stopped speaking with someone who had been a dear friend for 25 years, someone who wasn’t supportive of a major life choice I had made. While I had always appreciated her “tell it like it is” attitude, she could not separate herself from her own experience or opinion in order to be supportive of what I was doing. It was a scary time for me – I was feeling fragile and very alone; unsupportive friends and family magnified those feelings. We didn’t speak for almost a decade. We have since re-connected on Facebook. We aren’t particularly close now though messages have been exchanged on major life milestones or losses and I’m really glad about that. We’ve only chatted through messaging or posts but I know re-connecting was the right thing – a good thing.

I learned that having a rich history matters. hat sometimes, just sometimes, what was positive outweighs an isolated pile of crap. I learned how important it is to not only be supportive when I understand – but even more so when I don’t. 

I once walked away from a friendship that was too draining – it simply zapped every ounce of energy, compassion and reason. With the help of Geek, I cut the cord. It was hard because I genuinely like this person. I do occasionally speak with her now and enjoy the limited nature of a friendship with a person who is so vastly different – and similar – to me. 

I learned that boundaries are important in all relationships. If I don’t set my own, I only have myself to blame when others don’t acknowledge them.

I’ve also had people walk away from me. Choosing to not get involved, to not defend, is a shaky area and I do get it. But let’s be honest – neutral doesn’t apply to any relationship. I really did expect friends to be honest and stand up for me. 

 

I learned that loyalty is really important to me but that expecting others to share my sense of “right” sets me up for disappointment and isn’t fair to anyone involved. This hasn’t changed my sense of loyalty in a friendship; it just means that knowing where folks – where friends stand – is important. It can be a good way to determine where we are on the friendship food chain and who you can count on to help bury the bodies.

I’ve also had the unsettling experience of someone just walking away from me. I own that I was feeling resentful and annoyed and instead of taking a step back and just creating space or reaching out to talk, I was snippy, snarky and likely a bit of a jackass (this is me, owning my own shit – can you do the same?). I am as aware today as I was back then that that when I stopped being so agreeable and generous the friendship faltered. Neither of us reached out to talk about. Perhaps we didn’t value the friendship or simply didn’t have the energy to work through the situation. Perhaps we were each going through something that neither felt comfortable sharing.

I learned that when something feels unbalanced, when I feel like I’m giving and giving and not getting much back (I’m not talking about tit for tat – I’m talking about acknowledgement, gratitude) – I either have to be willing to talk or willing to walk. Snark and sass don’t solve the problem.  

At the end of the day, all of these peoples were lessons. I’m glad they came into my life – and in some cases, left and came back. I’m grateful for the experience. For the chance to learn. I’d like to think I’m a better person for it but there are likely many that would still call me an asshole. And lest I sound too Pollyanna-ish (as if that would ever happen) let’s be clear that I hope I was a good study and don’t make the same fucking mistakes again.

 PS - Major thanks to Neiman - for some reason, this was a really hard post to write, edit, re-write, edit again and finally tell myself it was okay to post. She was with me every step of the way. Sigh - she puts up with a lot. Thanks T!  I couldn't do this (or my closest) without you.

My name is Randi and I can't....

My name is Randi and I can't live up to Pinterest, Pottery Barn or West Elm.  I can’t live up to a single Lifetime movie about friendship, sisterhood or the bonds between women, women and men, sisters, brothers or those that share an obsession with a boy band.  I most certainly can’t live up to all those perfect mom’s out there – those that create those fucking Pinterest crafts in the first place, those who have children that never get into trouble, always do as asked and never say anything inappropriate.  I am not that mother and I most certainly do not have that child.

I just read this awesome post about a mom who hit rock bottom.  It totally inspired me to look at myself and acknowledge my own rock bottom. I have judged. I have acted badly. I have not understood.  I have made less than stellar choices that go beyond a bad haircut and 80’s fashion (70’s doesn’t count – we had fewer options.) I wielded my sharp tongue and hurt others.  I was less than empathetic.  I didn’t apologize.  I've been a total jackass.

In my world, the TV is probably on too often, we sometimes eat on the run, stay up too late and my floor needs washing.  I’m impatient, bossy and anyone who knows me will agree that on some topics, I have very strong opinions.  I will admit to earning my “bitch” patch years ago.  I've been rock-bottom more than once. 

I have forgotten.

More than once I have forgotten a birthday, a meaningful time or a friend in need.  I’m so caught up in my own bullshit that I don’t always pay attention to what is happening around me. This happens to everyone – I know this. I just need to remember that before I get my knickers in a twist about someone forgetting about me….that they may be so deep in their own shit that they can’t wade over to help me with mine.  To my friends, I apologize for forgetting, for forgetting that I’ve forgotten and for what I will likely forget tomorrow.  Let’s talk over a drink – if I can remember.

I’ve gotten on my high horse.

Yep, I’ve been there. And let’s be honest – you probably have, too.  You’d like to think the view from up there is better…but really, it’s pretty lonely when no one wants to share it with you. To my friends, I’ll walk beside you. The company is so much better that the view instantly improves.

I have been more judgey than Judy.

Yep, I’ve passed judgment. I formed opinions and sometimes made them known.  To be clear, I’m not talking about knowing the nuances of a situation and thinking someone is taking the wrong path. I’m talking about knowing nothing or close to that about someone, something and deciding you still know best for them, how you would do it better or dismiss their reaction. I’ve looked at someone else’s situation and made an assumption – if for no other reason than to make me feel better. I should know better. I’ve been judged long, loud and often and I hate it every fucking time.  To my friends, I promise to ask to borrow your shoes so I know what it feels like to be you and if they don’t fit, to shut the hell up.

I’ve not taken the time.

Sometimes, I feel like my life is the autobahn and frankly, I am not built for speed.  Geek tells me

all the time that my weekends are busy and well-planned and then I complain I’m exhausted and don’t have time to just be.  I found myself home this weekend and really just wanted to chat with a friend – not in a self serving way. I truly wanted to know – how were things going? Does Lips like her new gig?  How did Kooky do at her sleepover?  Was Geek feeling better?  How was Crafty holding up in the cold weather she hates so much? I wanted to thank Stretch for a really well timed email I got last week – and let her know it made the difference.  And Patron, we haven’t talked in while – how are you?  I want to stop planning to do things with friends and practice just being a friend.  To my friends, I will take a deep breath and have a drink at the ready – when you have a moment, just stop by or call and we’ll visit if even for just a few minutes. I will drop a line or leave a message. I know it will mean something and you’ll do the same when you can.

I have forgotten.

Did I already write about that?

I have been impatient.

I hate waiting. I’m painfully prompt – it’s a family thing.  We’ll circle the block to get to the party on time so that we’re not there early. If you told my parents to come over at six, they’d be there at five.  Now, in my defense, being late is a huge pet peeve and I honestly don’t believe there are that many valid reasons for it.  But, that is not the type of waiting I’m talking about. I’m talking about waiting for the right time, the right moment, the right deal. Waiting for things to happen or be dealt with on a schedule that works for someone else or the bigger picture – not just for my immediate gratification. Now, I’m not the kind that reads the end of the book first – but I’m always in a rush to finish.  To my friends, I promise to smell the roses, sip my drink (well, most of the time) and enjoy the journey.

The fact that you are my friends despite my imperfections continues to astonish me. Some of you have pulled me out of a rock bottom moment more than once (many of you way more than that.) To you, I am so grateful that you stood beside me when you may not have wanted to.  You called me friend when I was undeserving.  You were your best when I was at my worst. That you held my hand, loaned a shoulder and dried my tears.  These are things I have not forgotten.

So my friends, in this Valentine week – I promise to be a better friend.  I will try to remember, to be more patient. I will not judge (okay, who am I kidding – let’s aim for judging less) and I will catch my breath.  And, I will totally continue to support you in your rock-bottom moments.  I will sink to your level as you have sunk to mine – just so you are not alone. I will not say “I told you so” or ask you why.  In fact, I will offer you a cocktail to celebrate because the only way to go is up.  This, I won’t forget.

I blame you completely.

We learn a lot from our friends – both good and bad.  I may have picked up some questionable “gifts” from my friends – but they have also help make me the mom I am today.  

To Neiman: You have taught me that taking the high road matters, the details count, that is okay to do something for myself and that no matter how big of an jackass I may be – you’re still my friend.  You are the aunt to Mini-me that swoops in with long weekends of hugs, tickles and lots of Laura Ingalls Wilder books. You remind me to live in today. We may disagree about the importance of a good white blouse but you have taught me that the classics matter – in books, clothes, manners and sometimes in parenting.  You reassure me that following my gut – and heart – usually keeps me on the right track. Thanks for loving my little mini like she was your own.

To Geek: Holy shit you put up with a lot. More than anyone else, you put up with my parenting insecurities, frustrations, annoyances and pitfalls. Our nightly talks (yes, we talk every.single.night) keep me sane and remind that my kid is normal, that is okay that not all my friends are normal, that your family is as crazy as mine and that I need to be more patient.  You have taught me that I can probably find a better deal and that things are rarely as bad as they seem. Thanks for talking me off the ledge.

To Brenda Starr: You’ve put up with my brand of bullshit for a long time and we’ve seen each other through plenty. Watching you teaches me the difference between quality and quantity and that we are stronger than we know. I wish we lived closer so the kids could play. And, who am I kidding…so Mrs. Cleaver could cook for me, too.

To my brother and sisters: We each had a wildly different relationship with Mom but you totally get why today is tough. The story behind our cries may be different but the tears are all the same.  There are not enough word to say thanks. To Patron – just thanks and know that means everything.  You and Beach were the first ones in my corner on my path to motherhood and have never left.  To Dad’s Favorite, your relationship with the Candy Striper is astonishing and you’ve set a high bar – I can only hope I reach half that high.  To Mini-Mom, your perseverance and willingness to look deep and make things better reminds me we can all do the same.

To my mom’s group friends: Yowza, you guys remind what is important and isn’t – and not always in ways you would imagine. I’ve learned so much – you’ve made me laugh, made me think and reminded me what I do and don’t want.

To my old friends anew aka those I reconnected with on Facebook: You set quite a bar – be it for parenting or friendship or standing up for what you believe. You have each taught me to find comfort in what I’m doing right, join me in laughter when I do something stupid (it’s been known to happen) and to stand up for myself and what I believe in. I may do it more quietly than you – but I’m usually walking right beside you.

To former friends, those who just don’t talk to me anymore or those who can only be friends when the wind is blowing in a certain direction: Thanks for showing me the value of my real friends. You’ve taught me to be a better example to my own child when you show her what not to do.  You’ve taught me to instill a greater sense of decency, respect and honesty in my daughter.   Cannot overestimate the value of that lesson.

To Rona: You set the standard and for that I am grateful. You’ve taught me to embrace my heritage and understand the importance of passing it down. I can only hope that Mini-me, who shares your Hebrew name, will find as much comfort in her spirituality as you did in yours.

To my mom and Big Susan:  You each tackled motherhood from a very different playbook. This isn’t about who won that game but what I got from each of you. You taught me the value of friendship and its importance in our lives. You didn’t sit down and explain it to me. You didn’t write me letters. You showed in your actions and your devotion to one another. I’m grateful every single day for that lesson. And, for knowing how to make your brisket, chicken salad and roast chicken. 

 

So, if you admire me as a mother or think I'm setting my kid up for a lifetime of therapy - pat yourself on the back. I didn't do this completely on my own - I can blame you, too.  After all, they say it takes a village to raise a child…and while that may be, I say it also takes a village to make a mother. 

I wish each of you a Happy Mother’s Day. May your day be bright and poop free – except for your own, and I hope that you’re able to do that in private.

Finding like-minded souls aka Does my new friend have a potty mouth?

I’ve known him for going on 30 years (oh Biff, that just makes us both seem so old.)  We met as angst-filled college freshman.  I’d known Runner for 3 years at that point and we all ended up at the same school.  A shared dormitory, bad dining hall food, one car among us and being away from home for the first time.  And so it started.  Friendships made and friendships cemented. 

Just the other morning, Biff asked a great question on Facebook – Why is it so much harder to find and make friends now?  Is he right?  Was it easier as kid when someone was a stranger one day and your BFF the next?  Those friendships were honest, straightforward and caring – some have lasted into adulthood.  The responses to his question were interesting – ranging from adults being more complicated to people just being jackasses (uh, that may have been mine.) Others shared the obvious that it just makes you appreciate the good ones.

But his question did make me think about it. As adults, our offices and the gym are the playground where we generally meet people. Maybe we live in a neighborhood that fosters friendships but many of us do not.  Some of us have young kids, where we are thrown together with lots of other parents. Some of whom may not be total a-holes. Some of whom may become friends. If we’re lucky.

I know that friendships change.  When mini-me was very young, my new friends were the parents of her young friends. We bonded over diapers, day care and tantrums.  We joined mommy groups where often the only things we had in common were young children, lack of sleep and messy houses. Then our kids formed opinions (boy, did mini-me form opinions) and began to pick and choose friends. We saw less of those early friends and sometimes it was easy.  A good night’s sleep and the ability to have a complete conversation made you realize you didn’t have much to say to some of those folks or drastically different parenting styles made deeper friendship more difficult.  Kids grow, schools change, people move, you move and you have to start over.

We’ve now put down some roots. I live in a ‘hood with great people and the mom posse - friends for both me and mini-me so the neighborhood connection worked.  But now, I see some of my other friends less. Kids keep growing, schools keep changing, and schedules become more complicated.  Maybe we are changing and the differences are more subtle. My office isn’t really the kind of place that fosters strong friendships and the gym….well, I should go to one and perhaps if I did, both me and my new fit friends would be besties forever. But, bonding over our sweaty bodies strikes me as something a wee bit more than friendship.

But really, how would I go about making a new friend right now? It’s not like I can sit on the driveway with the sidewalk chalk and a cocktail and hope someone will wander by and ask if they can play.  Embarrassingly enough, the mom posse I have done this. More than once.  I’ve tried the PTO but honestly, that is a group of women that need a hobby and possibly a drink or three. While I’m friendly with a number of other neighbors and certainly with some folks at work, none seem to be moving in the direction of a new friend.

For adults, there seems to be a dance of sorts – gotta feel each other out.  Do you have anything in common?  Will they still like you if they know you (fill in the blank?) But, do those friendships just develop or do we have to make a list, go over it twice and then strategically go about it?  I thought about my most recent new friends. I was at the barn (a smelly, hot and dusty home away from home.) I was talking with the instructors and another mom about another even newer parent. We agreed she seems very nice.  We’ve tested the waters with her by talking about our love of a good cocktail and how our precious children can make us need a good cocktail. She seemed to be on board. We’ve yet to determine if she can tolerate our potty mouths (‘cause really – it’s not secret I have one) – because this new mom is a mid-Westerner and we think we may scare her.  Then it dawned on me – my new barn friends did this with me since I’m the newbie.  I had made three new friends – good ones. I never made any team I consciously tried out for but this revelation made me feel like I made the cut. I almost feel like the popular girl now that Derby, Jumper and the Bomb have welcomed me into their little club.  It just happened. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t really try.  I really was just hanging out on the proverbial sidewalk and they asked me to play.  So glad I said yes.

So Biff, I think the answer to your question is to just be you (and oh, the joke I could insert here.) Talk to folks – even if at a glance you’re not sure you will connect. Let’s face it, on the surface, we should never have become friends – we were so different but we just connected. We gave each other a chance.  Because you never really know if that person next to you at the soccer field, in line at the movie or standing next to you at the next kid’s birthday party where you don’t know anyone else – is your new friend. If they ask you to play, just say yes.

Note: though I’ve been blogging for a while and always put a new post on my Facebook page, Biff has yet to realize that I was writing all those posts I was recommending. Or, he was simply not reading my posts. He’s either a shithead or not the sharpest knife in the drawer. But now he knows…and he may read this and he’s a really good writer. He’s a great writer. Bracing myself for feedback and possibly a heavy dose of snark in return.

I believe. Do you?

I’m having a crisis of faith and am in a funk. I don’t know if they are related. Nothing cataclysmic has happened – life is good but very busy.  But lately, I’ve felt really disconnected from my religion and what I believe.

I did join a synagogue this last year that was absolutely not a good fit for my family – not only the degree of observance – but the overall approach. The decision to leave was a huge struggle but opting not to renew (for those outside of the tribe, yes, we have to actually “join” a synagogue – there are dues, commitments, etc. It’s a pay to pray approach) was a positive step – one that I felt was the right thing where my actions matched my words. The experience really made me question much of what I thought I wanted, what I practice and ultimately what I believe.

Despite this spiritual calamity, there are many things I do believe in. 

I do believe in a higher power and that things – good and bad - happen for a reason.  This is hard to stand behind when I hear my friend in angst over the loss of her sweet little boy.   That is not a wound that time heals and makes it hard to believe that a tragedy of that magnitude is part of a larger plan.  What good can come from the loss of a child?

I believe in my daughter. She is funny, brave, smart and beautiful.  As much as I parent her, she teaches me more.  I believe that she was given to me as a reminder of what is possible.

I believe that laughter can often be the best medicine.  I mean a real, gut-busting laugh, the kind where you have to cross your legs so you don’t pee your pants.  More than once, I’ve had my knickers in a twist over something and a good laugh - often prompted by one of my hilarious friends - was just the kick in the ass I needed to put things in perspective. 

I believe that a new pair of shoes can change your day; a new purse can make your week and a pair of jeans that make your ass look great can change your attitude.

I believe I was meant to buy this less than perfect house –because it brought Legs and Lips into my life; it brought mini-me not only friends but a neighborhood pack, including a couple of boys who treat her like a little sister, another one with the soul of old man who watches out for everyone and side kick with the same amount of sass.  The house has become a home.

I believe we have to be the change we want to see in the world.  Watching mini-me be challenged by kids that are less than nice has made me so much more conscious of how I talk to her, her friends and my friends – and a better understanding of what a real friend is – for both of us.

I believe that if I called the person I’ve know the longest right this very minute, she would understand and say, “I know just what you mean” even though we haven’t spoken in months.

I believe that The West Wing was one of the best TV shows ever. I still don’t believe it’s off the air – it’s just been a very long hiatus.

I believe that working in a shitty DC neighborhood (seriously, needles and ammo were all over our parking lot), sending mini-me to the Temple preschool and my mom and stepfather buying that particular house were some of the best things that ever happened to me – those brought me Neiman, Geek and Brenda Starr respectively. Life wouldn’t be the same without them.

I believe that friends come into our lives for a reason - to teach us something, hold our hand or just make sure we’re less lonely along the way.  People go out of our lives for just as many reasons - life got in the way, geography, or some falling out (or let’s face it, sometimes they are just a-holes.)  Regardless, we must value what was brought to the table – even if it tastes crappy, it makes you appreciate the good stuff even more.

I may not know where and when I may pray again. I don’t know where mini-me will be when she learns about our heritage.  I don’t know where I will say Kaddish on the New Year. These are all unsettling things – but I have to believe this is all part of the intended journey.

I believe – no, I know – I’m not on this journey alone. It doesn’t matter whether or not my friends and I share the same faith or that I have a menorah and they have a Nativity.  It doesn’t matter that some believe more than me, others less and still more completely different.

I believe in the religion of friendship. Our prayer book is our conversation, advice, secrets and laughter. Our offering is keeping each others kids, offering a shoulder and watching each others backs. Our cups are full of well, wine, coffee or some other libation that we raise (quite often) with the appreciation that we are so lucky to have one another.

So, despite my crisis of faith and my funk, I don’t travel this path alone.  The road may be bumpy and full of unanswered questions, tough decisions and hard times but the company is fantastic.

Now if I could only find the perfect pair of jeans.

PS:  Feel free to start humming that "I believe, I believe, I believe" song from the end of Mirror, Mirror. It's been stuck in my head the whole time I wrote this. You can thank me later.