Dissecting

Dissecting the way that I feel is something I have gotten particularly good at; after years of swallowing my emotions, I finally came into my own when I learned how to ask myself, "What does this mean for me? How do I feel?"
So once those two girls made their way into the crowd, I thought about my reaction to the seemingly innocuous eavesdropping I had been doing. Did I feel sad because I didn't have a relationship like that with my own mother? Was I missing my youth on some level? Did I long for something I had yet to define...a greater sense of family, perhaps? And then, the scariest question of all: did I want to be somebody's Mom? That cool Mom that came into the City and met her daughter for lunch...the one that all the other kids thought was cool?
Or was I just having an overly hormonal moment? I shrugged it off promptly, but I would be lying to you if I told you that those thoughts weren't pinballing their way around my mind, and that there was some pretty deep introspection going on inside.

The Sea Change

It's funny. If you take a second and think back over any of the truly defining moments in your life, you'll see that they came upon you suddenly; seemingly random, and yet they made such an impact that you know---as perhaps only you know---the moment that things began to turn.
One glorious Autumn afternoon, I was walking through Midtown Manhattan, enjoying the crisp weather, when I realized after a few blocks that I was keeping pace with two young girls that were a bit in front of me, to my right. For those of you who have never been to NYC: Midtown Manhattan is laid out like a grid, and if you just so happen to be going in the same direction, you can walk several blocks (or miles) with the same people. Unbeknownst to most people who live outside of NYC, we're actually quite a friendly bunch, and often times while waiting for a sign to turn from DON'T WALK to WALK, you may even strike up a conversation with your fellow pedestrian.
That afternoon, I'm quite sure these two young twenty-somethings caught my eye quite possibly because they reminded me of...me. They were dressed the way I had been in my early twenties: cheap business suits that were straining to look professional, great little knock-off purses slung casually over their shoulder, and quite possibly a little too much makeup. As we walked in tandem, I caught a little bit of their conversation.
"Oh My God! He's such a jerk!" They laughed. Then one turned to the other and said, "OMG! I almost forgot to ask you! What are you doing Friday for lunch?!" Her voice went up an octave, filled with the urgency of a young woman still enthused by all things New York.
"Totally nothing. Why?"
"Well, my Mom's coming into the City, and she totally told me to ask you to join us for lunch." She flipped her hair. "I almost forgot!"
"Oooooh, that sounds nice! Your Mom is so cool!" They giggled.
"Yeah, she is." The girl with the cool Mom shrugged her shoulders and they crossed.
I dropped back a few paces then and promptly burst into tears. At first, I wasn't sure why I was crying. But I could not deny the undeniable twinge; the first time I had ever felt anything towards being a Mom.
At the time, I was thirty-eight years old.

Onward

From there, my life moved onward. I made new friends. I joined my acting class. My husband suddenly became a cop. I began cultivating various interests and friends.
I worked hard, I played hard, and I slept hard. That about sums up the way I live my life.
And then...a sea change.

New Rules

After I made the long, hard exit from this particular group of friends, I formulated some New Rules for myself: I decided that I would no longer participate in friendships that were simply a one-way street.
I would no longer be bullied into going to baby showers; one was going to be too much in the very near future.  I would live my life Child-Free as everyone around me continued to build their own families, and I would seek out and find women that I had more in common with, and even if I connected with someone who was my polar opposite, I would appreciate her as long as she appreciated me.
I am proud to say that I have not attended a baby shower in about ten years. My new friends know that it is simply something I cannot in good conscience subject myself to; it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable, and I simply refuse. The great thing about friends you cultivate later on in life is that there is a modicum of respect for where you are when they find you.
Don't get me wrong: I always send a gift, and I usually cook multiple meals for the lady with the newborn as part of the type of support I can offer. Everyone who has received my culinary gifts seem to think that this is a far better bet.
My New Rules included respecting my dog. My dog is my baby. I'm sure if you've never owned a dog that you just don't get it, but that's okay. Please know that I love my dog just as much as you love your kid. If you find it hard to wrap your head around that...that's okay. There's no need to comment.
I would also like to extend a word of unsolicited advice to any woman who is reading this, who has both a child and a friend like me. Sometime soon, pick up the phone and call that friend. Make it a point to get a sitter if you can and get out of the house (sans kid) and grab a cup of coffee with her...and when you do get together, don't talk incessantly about your kids. I guarantee you she will appreciate it beyond measure. Perhaps you already do that; and if so, I tip my hat to you. We live in a very child-centered society here in America, so...take a moment, take a breath, and consider what I've said. I guarantee your friend will truly appreciate you.