Two becomes one

The Goose turned into a chubby and ultra-adorable appendage during our week-long vacation in the mountain state. She had a fabulous time seeing her family and friends but only as long as her vantage point was from my left hip. She would smile, cooh, wave and even utter "nana", "pa", and "heeeeeyyyyyyy" (much to the delight of all she encountered... especially pa and nana) but the second I put her down, the waving ceased, the smile turned upside down and the only vocalization she could muster was a "maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" or a "waaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh". The girl totally lived in my butt the entire week. Even her beloved daddy was unable to soothe or console her during our brief stint outside the confines of our home.

Her dramatic and intense need for all things me was cute for about a nanosecond. It honestly felt weird to be at work today without a 25 pound, wiggly growth on my hip. Weird but oh so good and refreshing. Stranger anxiety blows. What blows even worse is that I went from "mama" to "maaaaaaaaaaaaa" in one week. I swear, she sounds like Bea Arthur on the Golden Girls when she says "maaaaaaa". Me and Bea were quite a duo. The thing that sucked the most about my wiggly appendage was that I missed out on time with Gavin. A year ago at this time, mama reigned queen supreme in the Gavinator's universe and while I know it is not unusual for toddlers to pick one parent and run with it, it sucked to be unable to interact or play with him because I am currently and very much the parent du jour to the Goose. It was a family vacation but I wound up missing the Gavinator and the husband. Parenting two children two years and younger is quite the juggling act and up until our vacation I felt I juggled both very well but I had no choice but to only keep the Goose balls (Goose balls.... hmmmmmm, I wonder what kind of google search will bring folks to my blog with those two words) in the air. Argh. Pack my bags, I'm going on a guilt trip.

The hardest thing about being out of town was not the Goose that grew out of my left hip or the major diss from the Gavinator, it was the realization that life out of my hometown- while finacially and culturally superior- is kind of pathetic. Lloyd and I have a couple of close friends here in SC and we love them to pieces but they are nothing like the friends one has growing up. I have known my BFFs since childhood and only me and one other have moved away. Everyone else is back in the river city spending time together, raising their kids together, and basically having the social life I long for. I e-mailed another friend who moved away from Chucktown and when I asked if he had made many friends in his new city (like me, the majority of friends he has are of the BFF variety from way back in the day) and he felt that friends are correlated to the number of alcholic drinks consumed. As parents and pillars of society, our drinking days are long gone... as are our friendships.

When I met up with the girls and their husbands and kiddos, it was refreshing to plop down on a blanket and enjoy the warm summer evening with some brew and some music. It was nice to be understood and have the banter that is only found amongst people who loved you when... when you had big hair and braces... when you thought that Slaughter was the coolest band ever... when majorette and dance performances were a matter if life or death... when your parents divorced and you played it cool even though they really knew how you felt but didn't say anything to the contrary... when you snuck out of your house in the wee hours of the morning and they were too tired to go with you so they gave you a hairbrush to protect yourself... when a total douche bag broke your heart and although they were nonsmoker, smoked a cigarette with you to make you laugh... when you didn't even know to wish for the fabulous the life you now have and now, how they constantly remind you that yes, you deserve it all because you are loved.

Some say blood is thicker than water. Well, they've never seen the likes of our water.