Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Vintage Girls – Moms Need Their Best Girlfriends (Repost)

vin·tage girls [vin-tij gurlznoun
1.      girlfriends representing the high quality of a past time.
“Don't forget your sisters. They'll be more important as you get older. No matter how much you love your husband, no matter how much you love the children you may have, you are still going to need sisters.”
One of my vintage girls sent that to me (as part of a longer email) exactly when I needed to read it; as if she had it stored in a folder marked “For Leah’s Next Crisis.” 
I get so swept up in the manic day-to-day life with two toddlers running from playdate to store to potty to doctor and finally home again that the only time I can seem to find time to call my vintage girls is when I’m in the car for that 15- to 25-minute drive to wherever I am headed.  Even when I’m at home, a phone call is pretty much me telling my kids “no, not now” and “here you go” and “don’t do that to your brother” while trying to listen to my friend.  I care.  I really,  really do!  In fact, I’d give just about anything to drop my kids off at the best preschool in town and meet up with that old friend for a cup of coffee and maybe split a vanilla bean cheesecake while we dish about our adorable little ones.  As many women experience in today’s transient world, it’s not always easy to do, especially when your vintage girls live in other states, across the country or even abroad.       
Memories of these girls rush in as random tidbits in the crazy hours of my every day.  They are my rock.  They knew me best before my husband met me.  They know all of my quirks and are often the only ones who can tell me what I’m thinking or open my eyes to my mistakes or let me know how close I am getting to my life goals, even if I’m too close to see it. 
They are the ones who were there for me. 
Vintage girls call you out when you moved to a new city and tried out a new, brass attitude.  Vintage girls stand in line with you at 6:00 a.m. in 22 degree weather for a chance to get free tickets to your favorite Broadway show.  Vintage girls drive cross-country with you when you move out west with all of your belongings shoved into a Cavalier because you read “White Oleander” in the midst of a cold New York City winter.  Vintage girls still believed in you even when you made mistakes.  Vintage girls cheer you on when you are found success. Vintage girls keep in touch with you no matter how far away you move from them.  
They are the ones who are there for me.
Vintage girls are the ones who will tell you it is okay to be exhausted and feel like you can’t do everything once you’re a mommy.  Vintage girls will tell you not to believe a word from that book about sleep schedules and your happy baby. Vintage girls will tell you, I’ve been there. Vintage girls will identify with your situation with your toddler and share a relatable story about their preschooler. Vintage girls will make time for you when you really need it.  Vintage girls will reach out.  Vintage girls have a story about their husbands that make you feel better about living with yours.  Vintage girls will let you cry.  Vintage girls get it.
They are the ones who will be there for me.
When my kids start kindergarten, I know my vintage girls will be the ones to remind me to cherish the memories of their younger years and to embrace the challenges and excitement of the rest of our lives.  When I get a call from a teacher or a coach, I know my vintage girls will stand by me to remind me that we all make mistakes and our kids will work it out for themselves and still be great people. When my kids go off to college, I know my vintage girls will be there to fill the empty space and time – even if it means an all-expense paid trip to Turks and Caicos.  <wink><wink> When I’m in my retirement years and need a reminder of who I was and who I still want to be, I will turn to my vintage girls.
My vintage girls. The girlfriends I cherish, trust and love with all of my heart. Drinking a little wine tonight?  Raise a glass to that, sisters!

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