An old friend visited yesterday. She’s a year older than me and has a three-year-old and a 9-month old (compared to my almost-15, almost-13 and 9-year-olds!). We tried to have a conversation and for about four hours, we managed to conduct a stacatto, interrupted, utterly non-linear and almost nonsensical exchange punctuated by both of us hovering steps behind a crawling baby, pulling a huge dead moth out of said baby’s mouth, feeding a wiggly-screaming-starving baby, and, finally, entertaining a dead-tired, sleep-fighting baby.

Phew. This was a friend who I loved visiting in NYC because she was a career woman without kids and seemed to have no interest in my life-of-kids-diapers-and-chores. It was so refreshing!

And how things have changed! I love the turn our friendship has taken. All those years when I would escape from my suburban life and live vicariously through our visits, I so enjoyed her for being everything that I was not. I never took my kids with me, and we talked about love and life, work and sports. Not about kids or husbands or any of that “normal-life” stuff.

Now she is where I was about 13 years ago. I have to bite my tongue not to give her too much advice. As a “new” mom, you don’t want your friends telling you what to do–you want to live it and learn it through your own experience. You can’t imagine how many times I have to stop myself from saying something like, ohmygod read chapter five, you HAVE to have sex more often or else! What could be worse than a know-it-all friend who spouts advice at you from HER OWN BOOK?

Instead I smile sweetly, and wait for the day when we can have a full conversation again. Maybe in another 13 years…

Good friendships can last and thrive through all sorts of phases… and I am so thankful for that gift.

What do you do when you have a kid who doesn’t talk to you? You get nasty surprises.

I just discovered by total accident that my 14-year old son isn’t going on the “fun” white water rafting and  amusement park trip with his graduating class because, “I didn’t get my permission slip in on time.”

Okay. Number one: I immediately feel bad. I am supposed to sign that slip. How come I never saw it? How come I didn’t ask him where the slip was, given the trip starts on Sunday? First instinct: blame self.

Number two: Why is he making this lame excuse? Does he not want to go on the trip because he doesn’t feel comfortable with his “friends?” (He’s only been at the school a year and it’s been a rough ride.)

Number three: Does that mean he’s been lying all year claiming that he does have friends, even if he never sees anyone from his new school or calls them or even talks about them….?

It is my responsibility to get to the bottom of this, because otherwise no one else will. I want him to bond and have fun, just like all the other kids. I don’t want him to become  some sad, pale-faced, basement-dwelling loner! I know I can’t control or dictate all aspects of his life (and believe me, I don’t want to), but I also know I can and want to help him navigate these tricky waters.

Blaming or second-guessing myself doesn’t help anyone and frankly just ruins my day. So, enough of the self torture. To work:

Instead of an angry call to the school (WHY DIDN’T YOU CHECK WITH ME ABOUT THE DARN SLIP?), I will ask, politely, if they can shed any light on this situation.

Then, I will take a time-out with Peter. We will leave the girls here, and I will go somewhere neutral with him — maybe the ice cream store or CVS, his favorite places in the universe — and see if I can get him to talk.

Talk talk talk. I’m also going to dig up that indispensable book, How to Talk so Kids Will Listen. Although what I really want to know, is how to get my kid to talk. Ideas, anyone?