Two Little Girls In Ponytails

This morning I was delighted to wake up and find I had a long and hilarious message from my sister from another mother.  Poor woman is now the mother of a teenage girl and I think it’s just hitting her exactly what that entails.  In turn, she’s scared the crap out of me with the details.  I’m the mother of a pre-teen boy, who comes with his own set of “perks” and up next for me will be a teen girl.  Her message made me laugh inside at how far we’ve come and how the conversations differ from when we were the same age as her daughter is now.  It still seems like yesterday.  Where did the time go?  We’ve gone through every step in our lives together and our bond and ability to always lean on each other is priceless and as strong as ever.  We’ve known each other since we were babies.  I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on her.  She lived next door and was standing in her yard.  She had on a thick coat, a stocking cap and her hair was completely out of control, (as per usual).  She smiled sweetly and asked, “Do you want to play with me?”  It was love at first sight, lol.  She has the most beautiful, brown skin tone and I once asked her if she tasted like chocolate.  She responded with, “I don’t know…  Do you taste like vanilla?”  We always had chores to be done before we could play and she always had to do dishes.  She took FOREVER so I would come help her complete them so we could play sooner.  She couldn’t and still can’t stomach anything so she always made me fish out the crud that was left at the bottom of the sink drain after the dishes were done.  She frequently asked/made me do things I didn’t want to do.  If I heard, “I’ll be your best friend!” once, I heard it a million times.  We would play for hours and then the time would come when her mom would open the back door and scream, “Ccccrrrryyyssstttaaaaaaaaaaa!!!  Get home now!!!!”  Her mom’s voice carried through every inch of Cedar Terrace.  And POOF!  My friend would hit the ground running.  Mama Cindy wasn’t playing around, either, which is why she would always take off so quickly.

No matter where we’ve gone in life, we have always found our way back to each other.  We’ve laughed together, cried together, snuck out together, GOT PUNISHED together, beat the living hell out of each other and stood next to the other as we became wives and later mothers.  We used to be the ones having the sleepovers and talking about boys into the wee hours of the morning.  Now we talk about our children and wonder when it’s a good time to just turn into our mothers and get it over with.  Not to mention, how do you tell them not to do everything you ever did with a straight face?  In her message she said her daughter is 13 but has the body of a 20 year old.  I find it comical how she forgets we did too at that age.   If I’d have had a more involved father I could have put him in an early grave.

Truth be told, we both admit we still feel like teenagers on an average day.  Some days I wonder if I’m just going through the motions and faking it till I make it.  I think all mothers have those doubts and wonder if you’re doing anything right and how do I go about setting them free into the world.  Am I guiding them correctly, am I giving them the right tools to be successful in life?  For my dear friend and me, we’re lucky to have our oldest kids be close to the same age and of the opposite sex.  This way she can prep me by telling me what to expect when my daughter is that age and I can tell her what’s going to blow her mind when her son is that age.  It’s fun to watch our lives unfold and watch each other conquer motherhood and life in general.  Today I miss being 14.  I’d have her over for a sleepover and we’d talk it all out and the best part is, there would be no children around to bug us. 

This story is far from over, however.  There will be much for us to discuss in the future.  First it was barbies, then boys, then children, someday grandchildren and someday our orthopedic shoes and arthritis.  Here’s to the future and mommyhood and everything that comes along with it, dear Bertha!  We’re in this together forever, Sister.  I love you.  You'll never know how much.