Well, the next time I'm bored I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm calling my friend, Muhlissa.
Back in the day (that would be various times between three years and one year ago), we used to hang out. We'd meet up either with no kids, or with her one child and one or two of mine (when I only had two and used to think that was hard). We'd go to parks, museums, have coffee, sit around and laugh... It was simplicity at its finest. Serenity at its best.
So recently I made an unexpected return to a board I used to be on. She's also on there, so she sent me a private message and asked if I'd like to go out this weekend with the kids. That's the nice thing about friends like Muhlissa. I haven't spoken to her in months and yet we picked up right where we left off (she doesn't see me enough to get sick of me).
Go out? Sure, I figured. Why not, I figured. It's always relaxing to go out with Muhlissa, I figured. Remember the good ol' days, Maven? It'll be leisurely and fun, I figured.
It's fairly apparent where I'm headed with this by now.
We decided to meet at one of the local museums. It's in a very central location and parking is at a premium now that the place has been revamped and is, well, actually nice. It used to be creepy like Michael Jackson's ranch. It's now very bright and pleasant and people other than myself actually want to go there. It actually ticks me off, because I used to have no problem. Now I have a harder time finding a spot than I did getting a date in junior high.
I drove past the parking lot while people were pulling in trying to find a spot. I guess the big, shiny 'PARKING LOT FULL' sign normally also says 'EXCEPT FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE TOO IMPORTANT TO READ SIGNS'. You wouldn't believe the amount of vehicles circling like vultures.
There are alphas in this life and there are betas. Alphas expect that a spot will open up for them. Betas know better and can't be bothered to compete with the alphas. I'm a beta to the core when it comes to driving and parking. It's easier to slink off in that hyena fashion and park down the road, which is exactly what I did. Then Intrepid, Gutsy, Spawnling (nestled snuggly in his sling) and I made our way into the museum.
Muhlissa is not only a mother, but also a foster mom (another theory as to how we maintain a friendship is that saints tend to overlook people's faults) so her numbers are always changing. Today she brought three kiddoes with her, making a grand total of six under our care.
Just so you know, six is a far cry from three.
Six<---------(running way over here)----------> three. See?
One would think I would have caught on to the magic rule: the work of parenting grows exponentially with each additional child. If I hadn't learned that by going from one to two, surely I would figure this out going from two to three, right?
Um. Yes... Of course I have. I'm a parenting expert, after all. Gifted at it, even.
It only took a few minutes before I realized that my memories of peacefulness were horrible, taunting things, laughing at me from the cobwebbed corners of my mind like that weird uncle nobody knows at birthday parties.
There is no peacefulness with six children in a busy museum - having to run around the exhibits looking for strays (*coughGutsycough*) sort of ruins it.
There is no leisurely walking - trying to avoid bumping into gremlins who run in front of you and stop suddenly ruins that, too.
Sitting around and laughing quickly turned into sitting around and laughing and telling kids not to eat masty things off the floor or lie on the stairs or oh my god that's disgusting pick their nose and eat it or to please, please share their chocolate bar with mommy because she sure could use the sugar high right now.
We left after three hours because, of all things, the fire alarm went off and we had to evaculate the building. I think she secretely sent one of her kids into the hall to pull the alarm so she could get out of there faster. I checked my armpits after we left and I don't smell, so I can only guess I had something green stuck in my teeth.
On second though, maybe she just wanted to see some hot firemen.
One thing hasn't changed, though: although it isn't as relaxing as it used to be, the company was still wonderful and I look forward to doing it again. Even though we haven't spoken in months because we're both busy people, we pretty much picked up where we left off - with a bit of added chaos thrown in for spice. True friendships, I've decided, can survive pretty much anything from losing touch to pissing each other off a little. True friendships aren't high maintenance. I save all my high maintenanceness for my husband.
You're welcome, honey.
Muhlissa will not go another few months before she sees me again, as one of my resolutions for the new year is to keep in touch with the people who matter. It's part of The Maven going all thirty on life.
Poor, poor friends.
Back in the day (that would be various times between three years and one year ago), we used to hang out. We'd meet up either with no kids, or with her one child and one or two of mine (when I only had two and used to think that was hard). We'd go to parks, museums, have coffee, sit around and laugh... It was simplicity at its finest. Serenity at its best.
So recently I made an unexpected return to a board I used to be on. She's also on there, so she sent me a private message and asked if I'd like to go out this weekend with the kids. That's the nice thing about friends like Muhlissa. I haven't spoken to her in months and yet we picked up right where we left off (she doesn't see me enough to get sick of me).
Go out? Sure, I figured. Why not, I figured. It's always relaxing to go out with Muhlissa, I figured. Remember the good ol' days, Maven? It'll be leisurely and fun, I figured.
It's fairly apparent where I'm headed with this by now.
We decided to meet at one of the local museums. It's in a very central location and parking is at a premium now that the place has been revamped and is, well, actually nice. It used to be creepy like Michael Jackson's ranch. It's now very bright and pleasant and people other than myself actually want to go there. It actually ticks me off, because I used to have no problem. Now I have a harder time finding a spot than I did getting a date in junior high.
I drove past the parking lot while people were pulling in trying to find a spot. I guess the big, shiny 'PARKING LOT FULL' sign normally also says 'EXCEPT FOR PEOPLE WHO ARE TOO IMPORTANT TO READ SIGNS'. You wouldn't believe the amount of vehicles circling like vultures.
There are alphas in this life and there are betas. Alphas expect that a spot will open up for them. Betas know better and can't be bothered to compete with the alphas. I'm a beta to the core when it comes to driving and parking. It's easier to slink off in that hyena fashion and park down the road, which is exactly what I did. Then Intrepid, Gutsy, Spawnling (nestled snuggly in his sling) and I made our way into the museum.
Muhlissa is not only a mother, but also a foster mom (another theory as to how we maintain a friendship is that saints tend to overlook people's faults) so her numbers are always changing. Today she brought three kiddoes with her, making a grand total of six under our care.
Just so you know, six is a far cry from three.
Six<---------(running way over here)----------> three. See?
One would think I would have caught on to the magic rule: the work of parenting grows exponentially with each additional child. If I hadn't learned that by going from one to two, surely I would figure this out going from two to three, right?
Um. Yes... Of course I have. I'm a parenting expert, after all. Gifted at it, even.
It only took a few minutes before I realized that my memories of peacefulness were horrible, taunting things, laughing at me from the cobwebbed corners of my mind like that weird uncle nobody knows at birthday parties.
There is no peacefulness with six children in a busy museum - having to run around the exhibits looking for strays (*coughGutsycough*) sort of ruins it.
There is no leisurely walking - trying to avoid bumping into gremlins who run in front of you and stop suddenly ruins that, too.
Sitting around and laughing quickly turned into sitting around and laughing and telling kids not to eat masty things off the floor or lie on the stairs or oh my god that's disgusting pick their nose and eat it or to please, please share their chocolate bar with mommy because she sure could use the sugar high right now.
We left after three hours because, of all things, the fire alarm went off and we had to evaculate the building. I think she secretely sent one of her kids into the hall to pull the alarm so she could get out of there faster. I checked my armpits after we left and I don't smell, so I can only guess I had something green stuck in my teeth.
On second though, maybe she just wanted to see some hot firemen.
One thing hasn't changed, though: although it isn't as relaxing as it used to be, the company was still wonderful and I look forward to doing it again. Even though we haven't spoken in months because we're both busy people, we pretty much picked up where we left off - with a bit of added chaos thrown in for spice. True friendships, I've decided, can survive pretty much anything from losing touch to pissing each other off a little. True friendships aren't high maintenance. I save all my high maintenanceness for my husband.
You're welcome, honey.
Muhlissa will not go another few months before she sees me again, as one of my resolutions for the new year is to keep in touch with the people who matter. It's part of The Maven going all thirty on life.
Poor, poor friends.