With Mothers Day just around the corner, I found myself reflecting on the friendships that have been etched in my life since I first became a mom much like these stains on my couch that have persisted for the decade-plus I have called myself a parent.
Im kidding. I sold that couch to a couple of new parents a few years back. They were completely unable to detect the lingering odour of sour milk.
We sometimes talk about motherhood as being in the trenches. And its true. Parenting is unlike anything weve been called upon to do before mentally, physically, emotionally or spiritually.
Motherhood is a challenge beyond all others. Even if weve got things dialed in one department we most certainly dont have it in the rest. Perhaps its the never-ending balancing act as soon as weve got one aspect under control another falls to utter pieces.
Think youve got meal plans sorted for the week? The allergist will call with results letting you know your daughter is woefully sensitive to dairy and gluten.
Finally got your eldest on board with chores?
Thats the day the school calls and lets you know hes broken his arm at recess.
Motherhood is like surfing the most spectacular wave imaginable after saving five years to take the holiday youve always dreamed of. Except theres a freak frigid current and youre without a wetsuit. And the ocean is full of sharks. And youre in a monsoon. But the scenery is still really pretty.
By no means when I say in the trenches do I want to suggest that motherhood parallels actual war, or that the job of raising a child is in anyway equivalent to what military women and men face.
What I do see, however, is that the relationships that are forged under a common experience such as becoming a mom for the first time or, perhaps, triumphing over an unjust dictatorship are often ironclad.
The things new moms discuss from changes in sex drive, to wilfully ignoring the advise of a mother-in-law even when we knew she was probably right, to anal fissures. Yep. These are the intimate details shared amongst the women I met in the first year of my eldest childs life sometimes in tears of anguish and frustration, sometimes in hysterics. Often both.
Now our children attend different schools, some have moved provinces away, but despite the fact that I dont see them nearly as often, the bond remains. And as the kids got older, we discovered that we have different values, inspirations and pursuits. But these are still the women I know I can turn to without the least bit of judgment when I need someone to talk to and vice versa.
When your friend has accidentally peed on your couch from laughing too hard, how could they possibly judge you for disclosing your innermost secrets, frustrations, missteps and dreams?
And yes, Im starting to feel just a tad guilty for not burning that couch.