Archive | January, 2013

How do I know if my boyfriend is gay?

10 Jan

If you are Googling this question in the middle of the night, tell him you love him and you will always be friends. Get some other interests and stay distant for a time (for some people this will be a week, for others several months. Time is a very personalized thing.) Get ready for a deep and enduring friendship that will enrich your life for a very long time, if that was there in the first place.

Because if you are Googling: boyfriend gay, husband gay, how do you know if he’s gay…then it’s not a good time to have a relationship with him, regardless.

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Mom friends: Fellowship of the Ring

1 Jan

I have a group of mom friends that I made in the traditional (more-or-less) manner. When my eldest son was 4+ months old, in early 2006, I was going bugfuck in my house, still leaking milk, whacked out on sleep deprivation and my old “single” friends (single = without child) were upset I was not coming out for dinner with them.

The One Cookie

The One Cookie

So I looked on the Internet for help and found a mom’s group kind of sort of starting out as an email list. And the organizer of that group invited us all to show up for coffee at the mall. And I did. Getting there felt like Frodo taking the One Ring up Mt. Doom, but I met some friends there. The group expanded to insane proportions, split with dramatics, split several more times without dramatics, and I ended up with some great friends.

I started off cleaning my house from top to bottom every playdate and making elaborate finger sandwiches and ensuring three kinds of fruit. I ended throwing cheese on a plate and crackers in a bowl and shoving the laundry in my bedroom. And this path was a good one, because life is not like Pinterest…not every day anyway.

(A Pinterest rant will arrive. Love it. Hate it.)

When I went back to work I fell out of touch with them because I was having a hard time making sure my underwear was not inside out and talking to people who, you know, sleep through the night. And I was a little defensive and busy freaking out that I was Ruining My Child With Daycare and who needs a playgroup when your child is in daycare because they are just going to tell you you are screwing up? But luckily for me the same organizer ended up with her son in the same Montessori and I hooked back up with them.

By this time (this tale is starting to feel like Tolkien) playdates had become Friday night whine/wine night and I was so in. And it is amazing. It is like Friends. Here’s how it works: After the kids are in bed, whenever that is, we congregate at someone’s house for food and drink. It rotates. We use Facebook to do it. People drop out, come late, leave early, whatever. We stay up on each other’s lives, more or less, and we love each other.

We are a fellowship. Posse. Whatever. I have other friend groups…the same people who put up with me as a nerd in high school, work friends…and I truly do love them all. There is no trade and no hierarchy.

Royal iced eye of Sauron

Royal iced eye of Sauron

But these mom friends…here’s the thing. When I started off with them, I was so intent on doing this playgroup thing under my new identity as Supermom. Not weird. Not too different. Clean. Great cook. Loving and consistent mother. And it was mostly for the good of my child – support, as we say, as a parent, to be a good one.

And what I got was those people in my life who show up with casseroles when someone is hospitalized and who come over at 2 am if someone is getting divorced and is crying uncontrollably. (I have been the first and so far, not the second.)

Over time I have even let out my inner geek…that part of me that formed so much identity in high school as a loser, a loud obnoxious fantasy-book-quoting person who felt she had to cover that up, a bit, For The Good Of Her Child And Career. And in some ways I really am not that person any more. Except…I am her too.

And I do own and love the extended Lord of the Rings.

And so does that Chief Organizer.

And this holiday, we organized a watch-it-all party. And we hung out and ate and drank hot buttered rum, while our spouses watched our children, and watched all 12 hours. And talked about good and evil and Orlando Bloom’s ass.

And I made the cookies you can see in the pictures here. As well as Mt. Doom in meatballs: Mt. Doom meatballs

Pin that.