I can remember like yesterday being in Lisa G.'s family room, playing the Carly Simon album and talking about periods. How had been blessed with the cursed, who had not, when was it coming and who was getting breasts. Yesterday.
"You probably think this song is about you."
The night would also include who liked who, who denied liking who and if they liked you would you like them?Homemade popcorn made in the pot on the stove with real melted butter.
And it always ended with the dreaded saiyans where we brought back a dead person channeled through another and lifted them with two fingers above our heads.
Loved pajama parties.
Loved authentic pajama parties before texting, duck lips on facebook posts and face time.
What happened in that family room stayed in that family room at least until Monday at recess.
Last night I went to a grown up pajama party. Only we didn't stay the night. We know there is nothing like sleeping in your own bed.
We stood in the kitchen in our jammies. No popcorn. Wine. Desserts, some with little sugar and flour, some with lots of butter. Wine. Wine.
No background music. We wouldn't have heard it anyway.
And the conversation? The periods we longed for, we now long to leave us, the boobs we wished for now need tacked up, Paula Deen, dogs, C-section scars, how we met our husbands, flour and sugar, recipes on Pinetrest, manicures and pedicures, the lousy pedicure, the incestuous lives of manicurists, menopausal hair, menopausal attitudes, turning 50 and not caring, cheaters (the glasses, not people) poor customer service, good customer service, Matt Lauer, commericals, Boy Scouts, buying cars, Vermont, Costa Rica, and kids. This was the first thirty minutes I think.
My husband does not understand the need for woman to unite together. I guess most men do not. I don't care. We don't talk about them. Except for who we are going to marry when they are no longer around. George Clooney has several thousands of woman to chose from when he is 70 and they are all in their 80's.
It is the need to feel young, validated and appreciated.
My mom is still in a Card Club. She joined that club when I was in the first grade. This club is what taught me about the mother network and always amused me. My mom so looked forward to her once a month, always on a Thursday, at our house once a year, club. Her entire month revolved around Card Club. "No, cannot do it, I have card club." If she would have been chosen to go up in space, and it was the first Thursday of the month, "nope, going to card club."
Yesterday, I was giddy with excitement. GIrls night. Woot Woot.
I have also belonged to a Card Club. Mine is called DOM. Dinner of the Month Club. Four women who eat out once a month, for over 24 years. Same girls, although Miss Jen replaced me when I moved. My four "go to girls in life." I KNOW they will ALWAYS be there for me. Whenever.
Giddy, one night of the month.
I was especially giddy for last night. Yesterday, on the way home from work, I talked to my BFF for about 45 minutes. It was such as sad, awakening conversation. We are getting old. We both got lines and wrinkles on our faces, veins on legs, heart throb Micheal J. Fox is on the cover of our AARP magazines, our hair is different, we cannot see or go without cheaters, the attention span is getting derailed and we cannot go 90 to nothing like we used to. We talked about Debbie Boone Lighting up our lives with the all over body lift. We want to be young again go jiffing on Friday afternoon in college.
Oh to be young again and laying on a floor in a sleeping bag.
It is never the food or the cards, it is the girls and ok, the wine too. It is the excitement of knowing that you can lift your shirt up, pull down your pants and show your scar to people who have never known you had one and not care or worry that you will be judged. Although, I have got to tell you, I saw the biggest C-section scar last night ever!
It is safety in knowing that if you put something out there that might harm another mother's family, she is pushing that way above the radar line.
It is comfort in knowing that you can be you and if your daughter is driving you nuts, chances are another in the room has been there, and if you had a feeling in your gut about something, chances are another one has too.
It is nice to know that after baby puke and messy diapers and days were showers were luxuries, you can go hang out, top of the day of motherhood with wine and appreciation for what we all do.
I hope that all girls and ladies have a chance to celebrate being a chick with other chicks.
And if you don't call me, you can come to ours. Just wear your jammies, bring an open mind and don't forget the wine.
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