Oh lawd, I'm gonna be on National TV this week talkin' about those pesky butt bandits. That's right #HollaHemorrhoids
If you're not familiar with how I got on the national daytime show, The Doctors, to talk about those pains in the asses - please catch up and read my story in Cosmopolitan magazine, or here, on my blog.
So why did I go on national tv to talk about this incredibly embarrassing topic? Okay, okay I'm a bit of an attention-seeking, fame-whore alright? ALRIGHT?! What's wrong with a little publicity for my writing? Nada. Part ambition. Yes. Totally.
But, for real though, Ninety-five percent - is this right here. I'm gonna get deep here for a second.
Women's health issues, especially reproductive issues are so stigmatized in society right now.
They're so taboo. Periods, infertility, miscarriage, postpartum depression, Endometriosis, fibroids, HEMORRHOIDS. These are health ailments that are impacting women in huge numbers. If we don't talk about it, or share our stories - we won't be provided adequate or effective treatment options.
The proof that it can get better is breast cancer. Look at the medical campaign for breast cancer. Women started TALKING. More women are living and surviving because of that.
Now, I know my hemorrhoids are in no way compared to cancer. I get it. But, you know what I learned by talking about my hemorrhoids? Something very important.
COLON CANCER is hitting more young people. That's right. And many are dying from it or being diagnosed in late stages because they thought only older people got colon cancer. Guess what? The symptoms for hemorrhoids can be similar to those of colon cancer. So you know where my ass is going? To a colo-rectal surgeon, proctologist or gastroenterologist to get a colonoscopy. I'm 31-years old. It's highly unlikely that I have cancer. But, it's not impossible. How would I have known that had I not spoke up about my health issues?
Women can't heal, cure and treat themselves. They need help from the medical community.
So let's keep this conversation going. Tune in this Friday if you can, to see me make an ass (and talk about my ass) of myself. I swear it will be serious, informative - but also, seriously funny. Cuz how else can you talk about your hemorrhoids without having a sense of humor?
Monday, February 8, 2016
Mamas, it’s time to step up our friend game. Our bestie status. Our babies are not excuses for bailing on our besties. Well, they kinda are. But, what I’m saying is we moms can do better.
Last month, I outlined 5 Ways Childfree Besties Can Be Awesome to Their Mommy Friends.
During this month of looooovvveeee, I'm gonna tell you how to show love to your childfree, roll dog for life. Your non-breeding bestie.
Yes, mamas, we’re exhausted, and juggle life like a circus clown on crack. Everyone already knows that—and if they didn’t—you make sure to remind them.
But, just because we have less time to devote to a friendship, doesn’t mean we have no time. Don’t turn your once face-to-face friendship into a Facebook friendship.
We were childfree once. You remember what is was like a little bit? I mean, I know you’re not remembering much these days, like where you put your keys, or which child has a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, but I know you remember your former, cool, unencumbered self. You know how I know this? Because I fantasize about my old self all of the time. I idolize that time in my life and call it the good old days. “BB,” Before Baby. I can’t be the only one.
Don’t we owe it to ourselves to keep some shred of that former life alive? For ourselves? For our number one homies? To honor that old self, and not belittle or begrudge our besties, for still living the life we once had.
Here are five things all moms can do to keep a friendship with their childfree bestie.
1. Exercise discretion when texting baby/kid pics to her. Like, she doesn’t need a million. She gets that you just gave birth to a human being. Duh. A human being that’s really cute. Double duh. She cares adequately. But she doesn’t give a damn about your play-by-play, tummy time, slow-mo slideshow that you sent to her. Or pics of the baby in every cute outfit you own. She doesn’t need an update every day on what your kid can do now (that shit’s for Facebook, yo). Limit your updates to the major ones—walking, talking and using the potty. Side note: Don’t send her pictures of your child actually using the potty. Nor pics of the “presents” in the potty. You know what? DON’T SEND THOSE TO ANY-FUCKING-ONE. But DO request pictures of her dog. Show interest in her fur baby.
2. Just say “yes” whenever possible to going out with your childfree bestie. And, I mean, out of the house. I know, I know, I can already see you rolling your eyes, like yeah, right this bitch is cray! Go out?! Bah!
A night out will possibly require you to get dolled up, arrange child care, and possibly pay for it. Or maybe you'll be encouraged to come over in pajama pants to watch a movie - but you'll have to stay up way past your bedtime.
After a long week of packing lunches, work, bedtime stories and night terrors, I’m sure a night out doesn’t sound all that enticing (both the possibility of getting dressed, and the late bedtime). I’m spent every day of my life. I’m on empty. My idea of a fun Friday night is putting the kids to bed early, downing a bottle of wine, and binge-watching Netflix in my pajamas. But, someone needs to break us out of our hermit habits. That person is your bestie.
3. Try not to let every single disruption with your child break the plans you have with your bestie. You don’t want to be a flaky friend. But here's the thing - some situations are absolute plan-breakers, such as: sick kids, injured kids, emotionally distraught kids, and babysitters that cancel. Those all take precedence over plans. And I’m gonna go out on a limb here, get ready, cancelling plans just because you “don’t feel up to it anymore,” is a completely acceptable excuse for any adult of any age. I know, I know I just said don't let every single disruption break your plans. So as long as you don't feel up to plans every once in awhile, you're good. Just own it. Be honest about why you are canceling, do it ASAP, and apologize profusely. Basically, don’t be a dick. And don't do it repeatedly.
4. Carve out time to talk on the phone with your bestie if face-to-face isn’t always possible. Texting is totally acceptable, and probably preferable—most of the time. You don’t want to talk to her while your kids are screaming bloody murder in the background, or when your toddler interrupts your phone conversation fifty-fucking-million times for a snack.
“Mommy, I want a snack.”
That’s just annoying. Try to carve 30 minutes every few weeks or every few months (depending on how close you are) for a phone conversation sans screaming, whiny kids.
5. Be understanding and empathetic. We remember a life without children. I know it seems like a million years ago, but it’s true. You, too, used to only worry about yourself. (And your own food, your own ass, and your own happiness.) We used to have a lot more time to cultivate meaningful, social relationships. We don’t have the same amount of time anymore. We just don’t. It’s no longer about quantity. The quality of friendship you have will diminish, if you let it.
Like any other relationship it takes work. To keep the spark alive, I suggest you both agree on a set day/time every single week or month (again, depending on how close you are) that you either get together for a meal or talk on the phone, Skype, FaceTime or whatever. A wine Skype date is always fun. Treat it like a mandatory business meeting. My point is, get creative if you have to! Use technology to get faux face-to-face time.
Mamas, don’t think because we’re moms we’re suddenly exempt from being a good friend and all forms of social etiquette. I know you don’t pee alone anymore. I know you don’t come up for air very often. Your bestie, if she’s a true bestie, should give you a break. Just don’t take advantage of it. Try hard to keep the bond strong, because you never know when shit could completely fall apart. If it does, your bestie is the only one that will be able to make sense of it.
A version of this article was originally published by Scary Mommy.
Monday, February 1, 2016
|Me, this morning, hungover, about to go to school|
drop-off. Hey, at least those are Anthropologie
Let's be real. You drive to your kid's school. You patiently wait through the fast-moving carpool line, and then you speed off to do whatever it is you need to do for the rest of the day. Or, sometimes, depending on the school your child attends you have to get out of your car, and walk them into the school - all of which takes 5 minutes. Max.
Why do I need to dress in anything other than my pajama pants for either of those scenarios?
If you haven't read the already viral letter from head of Skerne Park academy in Darlington, take a peek. Kate Chisolm requested that all parents start dressing more "appropriately" after noticing an increase in parents wearing pajamas at the school gates.
So not only is this head teacher setting a school drop-off dress code, which is absurd - she's also shaming parents that do dress in their pajamas. And furthermore, the parents that so stupidly agree with her smug appeal - are shaming parents in pajamas as well.
IT'S FUCKING SCHOOL DROP OFF PEOPLE. Not the fucking opera. Not the bloody theatre. Not the gawd dang Academy Awards. Pah-leeeeeeaaaseee.
Parents aren't wearing negligee. They're wearing the comfy, flannel pajama pants they wore last night to bed.
After reading this teacher's appeal to parents, I did a huge eye roll. There are a thousand (valid) reasons why parents might wear their pajamas to school drop off.
And don't even start with the "You have no self-respect if you dress that way." Or, "What are you teaching your kids?" Or my favorite - "They must be lazy if they're wearing jammies to school drop-off."
I still have a shit-ton of self-respect if I show up in my pajamas. And so do the countless other people that may be suffering from an invisible or chronic disease. You do know sometimes it's hard for a person going through an illness to get through the day, right? So, I'm pretty sure shaming them with your self-respect comment is about as low as it gets.
Furthermore, I'm not defined by my clothes. I respect myself butt-ass naked. So there.
And, what am I teaching my kids?? All sorts of wonderful things, including, no one should give a rat's ass about what pants you show up wearing. For anything. Unless you're required to wear a uniform to perform a job, that you chose, and that you get paid for. Or you're required to wear a uniform to a school that you spend most of your waking hours at.
And lazy? Reeeeallllyyy?? I'm about the opposite of lazy. I can't sit still because I'm such a spastic human being. I am always ON. Which is probably why I didn't get to put on other pants besides my pajama pants - I was too busy DOING a thousand other more important things.
Here are a bazillion VALID reasons a parent wears their pajamas to school drop-off on any given day.
1. They're sick with the flu. A cold. A sinus infection. WHATEVER. Because kids are snot-nosed, germ-infested creatures and they tend to pass their disgusting germs to everyone in their family- most notably, innocent parents.
2. They don't have to go to work right after school drop off. Maybe they get up in the morning to do school drop off, then go back to sleep so they can work 2nd or 3rd shift? You mean to tell me a parent that doesn't have to work until the afternoon, should be dressed at 6 or 7AM? Yeah, mmmkaayy
3. They have a chronic illness. It's probably invisible. It's probably horrible enough to just get through the day sometimes. Maybe you suffer from depression. Or anxiety. Maybe all you can muster is brushing your teeth, dropping your kids off -and crawling right back into bed.
4. They tried as much as possible to get dressed, but shit hit the fan this morning. Susie took a massive shit right after breakfast that required a 5-minute wiping sesh. Bobby let the dog out for a wee - but poor Fido never came back. He's running loose in the neighborhood. And Alison's puking.
5. Backpacks, jackets and car keys have all miraculously went missing.
6. A parent that wears pajamas to school drop-off doesn't give a f*ck about fashion norms. They wear pajamas, because they like to. That's how they feel most comfortable.
7. They don't go to a job outside of the home after school drop-off. To ask a parent who doesn't work outside of the home to put on a special outfit for the 20 minutes it takes to complete school drop-off is absurd. I'm a writer, if I want to wear pajamas all damn day while makin' all that cash-money - I could. I don't have a corporate job for this exact reason. I DON'T LIKE DRESSING UP EVERY MORNING.
8. They have a newborn. Which means these parents are exempt from basically everything.
9. They're hungover. Hungover parents are NOT bad parents. OMG! Mind-blowing, I know. Hungover parents wearing their pajamas to school drop off are winning - because it's a surprise they got their kids to school at all with that massive headache.
PS - this is why I wore pajamas to school drop-off today. I don't always do this. But, I wanted to barf because I drank cheap wine last night.
10. They have OCD, and those pants are the only pants they can wear to school drop-off. You don't have to get it. It's just how living with OCD works.
11. It's laundry day. It was jammy pants or a ball gown that I wore to a wedding last year.
12. I'm broke and can't afford cute Lululemon yoga pants. Because I'd soooooooo put a pair of those on to do, pretty much anything in life.
Alright, muthas, add to the list. Why did YOU wear pajamas to school drop off?
Share in the comments section, or on the MM Facebook page.
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
|Holler at me mamas (me making kiss faces while vodka drunk on my 31st birthday). |
If I did Tinder - this would totally be my profile pic. PS- a corset does that to your boobs.
I’m a mom, looking to be Friends with Benefits.
I’m not looking for anything serious.
I need a stress-free, no-strings-attached kinda relationship.
No hard feelings.
And definitely, NO sleeping over.
I don’t need you on a deep level. And I’m not trying to get attached.
I mean, let’s not pretend that I’m going to take you home to meet my parents.
When we hang out, I just want to have fun. To feel good.
I’m lookin’ to be FwB. You know, FwB?
But while I may be whoring myself out a bit, I still have self-worth. This girl’s got standards.
Here’s what I’m looking for in someone that wants to be Friends with Benefits:
1) A zoo membership with a guest pass, so one of my kids can get in free.
2) A babysitter call list as long as a full-length novel. (If no babysitter call list, skip to item #3.)
3) An older child. One that is at least twelve years old. Or, mayyybbeee a very mature eleven-year-old.
4) Kids that aren’t little assholes. Alright, alright, ALL kids are little assholes. But, I’d prefer the less a-holey kind.
5) High-end hand-me-downs from your boutique shopping excursions.
6) A booze stash.
7) No shame in drinking booze in front of small children.
8) No shame. Period.
9) Manners. I’m looking for someone that offers to help clean up after a playdate or dinner party at my house.
10) A sane significant other. He/she can be weird—like, maybe they do impressions from The Simpsons when they're drunk—that’s fine. But they can’t be CRAZY. And your other half has to get along for my other half if this whole FWB thing is going to work.
11) Booger radar. If your kid’s nose is gooey, green, and running with snot—I’m gonna need you to be on top of that.
12) Gangster rap. If you don’t have Biggie or Tupac on your playlist, this . . . just ain’t gonna work.
13) A playground in your backyard.
14) A pool. Kiddie pool is fine.
15) It’s preferable if your kid is potty-trained. Or still in diapers. Not in between. Ya feel me?
No peeps on the potty-training journey.
16) The 411 on all the best, local pediatricians, schools, after-school care programs, dance academies, and soccer leagues.
17) The inside hook-up to get my kids into said best, local pediatricians, schools, after-school care programs, dance academies, and soccer leagues.
18) Live less than five to ten minutes away, so I can call you if I’m in a bind.
19) But don’t ever call me in a bind.
20) My ideal FwB is currently not pregnant, and not planning to be pregnant in the future.
So, screw romance. Let’s keep it real casual. For us, and for the sake of the kids. PM, or DM, or text, or whatever people do nowadays to hook up, if interested.
A version of this article was originally published by the fabulous ladies at In The Powder Room.
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
|Photography: Melanie Mercogliano|
Okay, maybe HOT isn't the right word. I'm a decent looking, non-hideous mom with a very unique sense of style. I know my place on the attractiveness scale.
If Kim Kardashian is like a 10, I'm like a solid 6, maybe a 7. Don't get it mistaken though - I totally think my whole package is a motherfucking 10, mkay muthas? The brains, the curves, the face and the funny - that's a 10, yo.
Anyway - the only thing that might knock some decimal points is well, those pesky hemorrhoids. Yup, I got hemorrhoids. They cropped up when I was about 8 weeks pregnant with my second child and never left
as my permanent reminder of pregnancy - my hemorrhoids serve as a painful, pregnancy reminder.
I was 26-years old when I got them. I was like - how in the fuck could this be? I thought only old people got hemorrhoids.
Hemorrhoids are a pain the ass. ALL PUNS INTENDED.
They're shitty bums.
They create a constant aching in my ass. No amounts of Preparation H cream, diet changes or non-straining bowel movements can help the situation. They're hopeless.
So, naturally, I wrote about them. Duh, because of course I did. I didn't just write about them on my blog where I have like 2 readers. (Ahem, if you read this blog - put your motherfuckin' hands up in the air!! So I can see you and count you on one hand). I wrote about my hemorrhoids in COSMO. Yes, Cosmpolitan magazine. A mainstream magazine that has like a gazillion readers. The pinnacle of hemorrhoidal humiliation.
Why, oh why, do I do this to myself? I must be masochistic.
As luck would have it, a popular daytime, NATIONAL television show saw my story. They asked me to come on their show. TO TALK ABOUT MY HEMORRHOIDS PEOPLE.
So far, my family is less than enthusiastic about my upcoming appearance.
My dad asked me, "Are you going to use your maiden name, or your married name on the show?"
And my husband, has asked me the same thing.
Two men, wanting two very different answers to this question.
If my dad and husband are humiliated - let's just say - they have no idea about the epic embarrassment I will face.....being theeeeeee face...of hemorrhoids.
The truth is - going on the show will be fantastic - I think. I kinda like owning my hemorrhoids, and debunking the old woman image of hemorrhoid hell.
I mean, let's be real ladies. All types of gross and taboo shit happens to you when you're pregnant or in the postpartum stages. Hell - weird medical things happen to people when they're NOT pregnant. If we all talked more openly and honestly about these things - maybe there'd be no stigma. Like - mental health. I'm not saying my hemorrhoids are anything like mental health - but you get my drift. I gotta own my crap if I'm gonna receive the medical attention I probably need to send these hemorrhoids straight to hell. I gotta own my crap - so that maybe it inspires someone else to own THEIR crap, and get the help THEY need.
I'm not solving world hunger here folks, or getting a cure to cancer. I get it. But, man, these hemorrhoids are uncomfortable. They mess with my self-confidence a bit. And they're flat out frustrating. So whatever.
I'm nervous. Scared as hell really, about going on this national TV show to talk about my bum.
It's awkward. But, I know if I approach it with the same attitude that I have in real life, and behind this computer screen, and behind these words - I'll do fine. In fact, I'll do fucking great.
So with that - I'm off to LA today to talk about my hemorrhoids in front of a studio audience. And soon after that, it will be in front of a national audience.
The only question now is - will you watch me? Of course you will watch me make an ass of myself, talking about my ass. Show air date will be updated here, or on my Facebook page.
Monday, January 18, 2016
On a recent road trip from Pensacola, Florida to Atlanta, Georgia (where we live) – I realized about halfway into our trip that we were going to be passing by Selma and Montgomery, Alabama. I saw the highway signs and begged my husband to stop.
I’ll admit, we were all anxious to get back home (and to avoid Atlanta baseball traffic). But, who cares? We had all day and night to get home.
As we made our way through the hills of downtown Montgomery, I knew we were in for a cultural and historic treat. We ate lunch near the capitol, and meandered down to Dexter Avenue King Memorial Church. We only expected to see the outside of the famous church and move on to the National Civil Rights Museum. Dr. Martin Luther King Junior was Dexter's twentieth pastor. The pulpit Dr. King used to deliver his sermons and his desk, are still there inside the church. As luck would have it, the tour director opened the doors as we were standing in front taking pictures and said, "Y'all here for the tour?"
Our 5 and 4-year old daughters were ushered in by the tour guide, and taken under her wing. They were the youngest attendees, but she treated them special. She knew what I knew. If you teach them tolerance young, if you teach them about civil rights, and those who fought and still fight for equality and unity - they will carry it out in their adult lives.
It was one of the most memorable experiences I’ve had with my family. We learned a lot about the history of Dr. King, and all of the civil rights activists. We touched the pulpit where Dr. King stood to deliver his sermons. We stood in his office, where he used to frequently hold meetings about civil rights, and organize peaceful protests.
Mostly, our children saw their parents putting emphasis and importance on this experience. On these teachings. On equality. They saw us actively teaching them the history and the significance of civil rights. They understood what it meant for their freedoms, and the freedoms of their friends.
My 5-year old summed it up with this statement, "White children and black children used to have to use different water fountains?! That's ridiculous!"
Exactly. Racism is ridiculous. It's absurd.
I can’t change the attitudes and misguided views of adults here and in the now. I only see hope for a real shift in our youth.
A cultural shift and erasure of implicit bias will need to happen if our kids are going to live in a more compassionate country. It starts at home.
Parents have the power to do this. I can impact my kids. I have control over this. I have the ability and the influence to shape their minds and craft them into empathetic and tolerant people. I have the capacity to create a cultural shift by teaching my children compassion for all humankind. And it’s not a passive teaching. It’s not vaguely discussed — or secretly sprinkled into dinner conversation. And it certainly won’t be a lesson in how to be “color-blind.”
My teachings and talks on race, discrimination and tolerance are carried out consistently with my kids. Sometimes, we talk about it on the way to school. Sometimes at dinner. Sometimes, I act out empathy lessons while playing Barbies with my girls. Sometimes, we talk about it while reading bedtime stories.
I make a commitment to talk to my children about racism and discrimination every single week. I grab and seize opportunities to teach them about blatant racism and implicit bias whenever possible.
They need to understand how discrimination manifests and how to stop it for themselves and for the next generation. Not talking about racism with your children is unacceptable — it proliferates the problem. White parents and parents of every race and ethnicity need to make a commitment to talk about racism and discrimination regularly — even if it makes them uncomfortable.
If we actively commit (not just say it) to talking about racism, we can raise children who notice differences and celebrate them. Love, empathy and tolerance might not win in our time. There may still be the problem of the "color line" as W.E.B DuBois so famously said. But, let's not have it be the problem of our future generations.
How do you teach your kids tolerance? Share below in the comment section.Who knows, you might give someone an idea on how to incorporate these lessons into their own lives, or share with their children.
Or comment on my Facebook page.
Happy MLK Day!
Monday, January 11, 2016
Chances are you two foraged a friendship when you were both budding breasts, crushing over pimple-faced boys, and going to school football games. You played Girl Talk and Ouija board. You smoked your first joint together, or had your first swig of Peppermint Schnapps from your parent’s liquor cabinets.
You call each other and sing the lyrics to Salt-N-Pepa’s “Shoop” every time it comes on the radio.
Photo booth snapshots of you hugging, blowing air kisses and making funny faces are in a frame on your nightstand. A greeting card with two little girls—one blonde, one brunette—is propped on your desk at work. Inside, it says “Love you BFF!”
Besties for years.
You two bonded at the same exact stage in life. Maybe you were childhood best friends. Maybe you met in high school, or inside the college dorm rooms, or as gophers at your first jobs.
You’ve been on parallel tracks for as long as you can remember. You’ve shared ordinary and extraordinary experiences. Broken hearts, career successes, family dramas, health ailments, loss, gain. Every strife and struggle since you met is braided into each other’s lives.
You totally “get” each other. You validate each other. Your bestie understands you more than anyone on Earth, and especially when no one on Earth understands you. You both know a bestie is a rare breed of friendship. Preserving it, is paramount.
Then something happens. The great divide. Nope, not marriage. One of you has a child, and the other does not.
Suddenly, your whole friendship revolves around this tiny human being.The quantity and quality of bestie time is now defined and divided by a child. The alternate universe you have built together is broken, and re-bonded by this baby. And while it sounds beautiful, it’s actually quite traumatic. You both have to figure out the friendship dynamic after babies. The friendship is morphing—but, neither of you knows how and to what tremendous lengths it will change.
What you do know is that if the friendship is important to you both—steps will be made to save it.
Here are five things childfree besties can do to help maintain a friendship with mommy BFF’s.
1. Visit her when the baby is born. Acknowledge the damn baby—just a little bit. Even if babies aren’t your thing (hell, they're not even MY thang - and I birthed 2 of 'em). It doesn’t have to be a long visit. Just let her know that you care. Bringing booze or food wouldn’t hurt. Let me repeat booze and food are welcome gifts. If you’re long distance BFFs, send something more than a text.
And for the future, keep showing interest in the kid. Ask questions about the kid’s school, sports, dance recitals. Whatever. Even if it’s forced. Even if you’re make jerking off motions and rolling your eyes on the other end of the phone while your mommy bestie spouts off all of her childrens’ recent boring accomplishments. She asks about your dog and cat that she gives no shits about. So touché.
2. Make plans with your mom bestie outside of the home, without kids. Try spa visits, dinner, coffee, breakfast—whatever is realistic. It will force your friend to step away from her demands at home, from her children and work, and get in that girl-time she so desperately needs.
Also, make plans with your gal pal that include the kids every once in a while. Just make sure the kids are at a place they will be thoroughly entertained so you can actually get in more than half-second snippets of conversation (ask her where to go, she’ll know the perfect spot to let the kids run free while you two catch up).
3. Be flexible. Don’t be mad when plans fall through. You are worried about one person. Even if you’re coupled or have a dog. Generally speaking, you are worried about numba one—yourself. Your mommy bestie is worried about herself and another person, all of the time. That’s 24/7. If she has more than one child, that’s exponentially more worry. Multiple children increases the likelihood of plans falling through. Johnny may have an ear infection on the day you two had plans for coffee. Susie might’ve fallen into a pile of fire ants at the playground on the day you rescheduled your coffee date. The working mom may have her own last minute work deadlines that come up, which she has to somehow balance with her family life. Expect to move over for last-minute illnesses, babysitter cancellations, and work deadlines.
Childfree besties, don’t take it personal. Chances are she’s really trying. Your mommy BFF is really trying to find time for everyone and everything.
Side note: Moms with newborn babies and toddlers get a free pass to be mostly MIA for, like, 2 years without side eye or judgement.
4. Embrace texting as a form of primary communication. Don’t expect long phone conversations. At least not frequent ones. Texting is probably more realistic.
5. Be understanding and empathetic. Don’t resent her for putting her kids first. Don’t throw it in her face. Her kids and her well-being are indeed paramount. She is raising small, needy human beings. You’re an adult. You can handle not being nurtured a bit. Theoretically, should she and could she make more time for herself and her friendships? Absofuckinlutely. But, it’s really hard to carve time out. We could all—kids or no kids—do a better job of taking out time for friendships. But we just don’t. We put our kids before all types of things that would be good for us, like sex, sleep, evening jogs, hopes and dreams, you name it. Kids, more often than not, trump our desires. Including our desires to share a very adult cocktail with our bestie.
A version of this article originally appeared on Scary Mommy.