Dogs and Shoes

Our lives change when we have kids.

But when did welcoming your little miracle into the world segue into a funeral for your relationships with childless friends?

Somewhere between up-all-night-with-a-baby-who-won’t-sleep and should-I-do-breast-milk-or-formula, some of us stopped caring what our career-minded single pals were up to.

Or maybe we were just too tired. Or too shell-shocked, or ashamed, that being home with a baby was way harder than we thought it’d be (what I call the Stay-at-Home Mom Conspiracy Theory).

Whatever it was, it’s a problem.

Because our childless friends are hurting. In fact, they’re mourning the friendships that have been lost.

My friend Marissa is a news anchor in a top five market. She is fair, dedicated and authentic. She doesn’t have kids, and she is a very intentional, quality friend. She wrote me a note about a friendship that ended after her very close friend had a baby. Here’s part of what she shared with me (posted with her permission):

I made a concerted effort to go visit her so that she didn’t have to leave her house with her daughter, a stroller, diapers, etc. Even after multiple trips to her house, I still felt something was off. She started half-listening to our conversations, even after I would listen to 35+ minutes of her debating the pros and cons of cloth diapers. (Um, really?) I don’t even know how to give advice on that, other than to go to Google. After a few different instances, I just realized that things that were, at one time, important to US, were now only important to me. She had her daughter and her new family dynamic and nothing else mattered anymore.

The thing is: I TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. I know that I’d likely feel the same way: cherishing every moment; taking time for the few rare, quiet times with my husband while he was home from work; using the 30 minutes while the baby is sleeping to take a shower. I get it. But I also felt that I was mourning a friend and a friendship at the same time.

I have to tell you... after writing this to you, I feel like I’m being kind of a sap about all this stuff. I consider myself pretty independent and non-needy, but for some reason, this really bothered me. I think it’s because it’s happened with more than one friend and no one really talks about it, you know?

Dear Marissa and other single friends who have been abandoned,

Here’s the ugly truth: We suck at doing it all.

That’s right. The moment the doctor handed me my crying newborn, it all stopped. I was not just Janie. I was Janie, the Mother of Sullivan. An enormous privilege and an overwhelming responsibility. I became a mom, and for a time, I didn’t care about anything else but my kid.

And that meant I sucked at everything else.

My friends. My former career. My house. My laundry pile. My husband’s needs. My spiritual life. My weight. My personal hygiene. My own sense of self.

Yes, me. This normally-so-organized-and-in-control-of-everything woman was now so wound up with the brand-new, blindingly-amazing, dizzingly-daunting task of taking care of the round-the-clock needs of my newborn that, sometimes, I forgot to breathe.

The newborn who I made certain to feed before we left the house for the grocery store... where I realized I forgot my wallet. The newborn who wore brand-new outfits for at least the first four weeks... while I slouched around in two-day-old pajamas marked with splotches of crusty spit-up. The newborn who demanded so much attention that I could tell you when he fed, slept and pooed last... but I couldn’t take the time to look you in the eyes while you were telling me about your life.

You know what? I was being the best mother I could. And that meant that other things suffered, including our friendship.

I dropped the ball when you least deserved it.

You, who showed up to our engagement parties, bridal showers, bachelorette parties, weddings, baby gender announcement parties and baby showers. And each time, you had a gift, purchased with your single-person paycheck, from our extravagant, self-indulgent registry. You, who came to the hospital to see our newborn, and then a few days later, smelled your home-cooked lasagna all day at work so you could drop it at our house exactly when we’d asked, at 5:15 p.m.. You, who comments or likes every one of my unending stream of kid-related posts on Facebook and never complains that our once-a-week phone convo has turned into a half-assed once-a-month email.

You, who genuinely loves me.

But here’s the thing: It’s not forever.

Our relationship has been on pause because of me. I’ve changed. And I’m having a tough time keeping up with the daily demands of raising babies. Like exercising properly. Like showering and having decent personal hygiene. And yes, like picking up the phone and calling you. Just to see how you’re doing.

We have a real friendship. But right now, we’re interested in different things. While you talk, I’m watching the clock because my baby needs to eat in 12 minutes. I don’t realize that you spent 30 minutes waiting on me to get here because the baby had a blowout on the way. As your hands move with your story, I’m wishing I had worn a different color shirt that wouldn’t show the baby spit-up. I don’t notice your fabulous choice of color on your new manicure (as I tooootally would have before). As you talk about things at work, I’m distracted by doubts about whether Ferbering was the right move. But I don’t see the doubt on your face about whether your contract will be renewed.

Shame on me. You deserve better. And I haven’t been there.

I’m sorry.

We had kids. And became self-focused.

Except, we actually haven’t been focused on ourselves. We’ve been focused on the tiny aliens who suck the life, milk, energy, sleep and brain power out of us. The piercing screams that are our new wake-up call every morning at 2 a.m.. The tiny hands that are so perfectly-created it brings us to tears. The bundles of soft skin that have made us realize that life is so much bigger than us. The little people who are fine-tuning our patience, grace and tolerance of others on a minute-by-minute basis.

Our children are the perfect miracles who are teaching us what love is. So that, when we get it all figured out, we can actually be a much better friend to you.

So, childless friends, I want to thank you. Thank you for being patient with us.

The other friends left a loooong time ago. They were over the boob talk and calls to voicemail. But you cared enough to stay. And you even care enough... to be hurt. Because we aren’t considering your life.

Thank you.

Thank you for loving us, even when we’re too distracted to show we care.

We do care. You are valuable to us. We need you.

We just need a minute to get this parenting thing down. And trust me; when we come up for air, we will be even better friends than we were before.

(And hey, who doesn’t need a friend who gives legit parenting advice and awesome baby gifts?!?)

Original Post;-  http://www.huffingtonpost.com/janie-porter/an-open-letter-to-my-friends-who-dont-have-kids_b_5823776.html

Best Dating Advise

 In dating we often find ourselves in this grey area where we don’t know what to do anymore. Some examples:

    Your date is not texting back after what you thought was a great night.

    The colleague you asked to go watch a movie together tells you “Sorry, I can’t make it today, but let’s do it another time!” But she never says a word about it again.

    An interesting guy who said he’d call you but never does.

    The cute brunette that invited you to her party but didn’t even talk to you when you were there.

All of these examples show you ambiguous situations that – let’s be honest – suck. This is where “Yuck yes, or no” comes into play.

Why would you want to be with someone like that? Why would you want to be with someone who is obviously not excited to be with you? Why would you waste your time and sanity chasing after someone who clearly isn’t as into you as you are into them?

From now on, you should follow a simple rule: only pursue romantic endeavors in which everything seems to flow naturally.

    Go for the lover who calls you in the middle of the night after your date because he couldn’t stop thinking about you, opposed to the guy who barely remembers who you are.

    Go for the colleague who immediately buys those tickets for Avatar 2 instead of the one who leaves you hanging in the neverland between colleague and date.

    Go for the cute bubu who invites you to her party, welcomes you with open arms, and introduces you to everyone there.

Life is short. Spend it with people who want to be with you. To everyone else, your answer is “NO”.

The One Thing That All Women Love

I’m going to tell you a secret.

Women love compliments.

OMG, are you serious? That’s not a secret…

You’re right, you’re right… just chill out. I’m getting to the secret part.

I’m going to set it up a little. Hang with me here.

You see a beautiful woman. You say, “Hi, gorgeous, how are you today?”

She snarls at you and moves away.

HEY, I THOUGHT YOU SAID ALL WOMEN LIKE COMPLIMENTS.

I didn’t say all women like all compliments.

A beautiful woman hears compliments on her looks all day long, every day. And every one of those men complimenting her wants something from her, her time, her attention, etc. And they all say the same thing. No one cares about the person, they just want to be seen with the pretty woman.

So, let’s try this again.

You see a cute but dorky girl reading War and Peace. You say, “Wow, you must be really smart, reading War and Peace.”

She looks at you blankly and says, “I’m reading. Leave me alone.”

THIS ISN’T WORKING! I’M GIVING COMPLIMENTS AND CRASHING AND BURNING. ARE YOU SOME SORT OF SADIST?

A smart woman constantly is told she’s smart, as if that is all she is. All of the “smart girl” stereotypes, you just smacked her with? She’s used to it. Unimpressed. Slightly offended. There’s more to her than her brain.

WHAT THE HOLY HELL? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IF I’M NOT COMPLIMENTING HER ON THE OBVIOUS?

Nice! You just figured it out.

WHAT DID I FIGURE OUT? START TALKING SENSE!

Don’t compliment her on the obvious. If you want her to take you seriously, take her seriously. The pretty woman rarely hears that she’s smart. The smart woman rarely hears that she’s pretty. Learn a few observation skills and find out what someone wants to be, and compliment that.

That gorgeous woman has a book sitting next to her.

“Oh, are you reading Malcom Gladwell’s Blink? Did you read Outliers?”

“Oh, I just started it. But it’s good so far.”

“You have great taste in literature! If you like Gladwell you might also like Deborah Tannen…”

You didn’t say, “Great boobs, nice ass, I love blonds” you said “You have great taste in literature!” You just recognized that she is a person. Good job.

The dorky but cute woman sitting alone having lunch...

“Hey, I don’t mean to bother you but I think you are really beautiful. Would you like to get coffee sometime? With me?”

Watch her blush from her neckline to her crown. Be that bold. She doesn’t get approached like that. Even if she says no, I guarantee you just made her day. She is going to tell every friend she has about this and blush all over again.

What does my woman want to hear after we’ve been together a while?

Same principle. Who does she want to be? What does she see herself as? Compliment that.

The best compliment I ever received was:

“I really liked your book. I felt like I knew those people.”

Bonus: The “Best” Compliment

Women know we are in constant competition. Men are always looking, always comparing. If you say to your wife, “You are the most beautiful woman in the world” we know you are BSing. We appreciate the sentiment, but there’s no way that’s true. Especially because we see your roaming eyes.

Want your lady to feel special? Pick out a part of her that is the “best.”

“You have the most beautiful ears. Seriously. They are perfect.”

“These are the most beautiful hands in the world. I mean it. You should be a hand model.”

“I love kissing your neck. It always smells so nice and feels so soft. I just love the curve of it. You have a beautiful neck.”

Yes, you can pick the boobs or ass, but try to find something you sincerely enjoy about the woman in your life, that she can believe really is unique and special and that you are the only person who knows her well enough to appreciate it.

These are powerful things. Use compliments responsibly.