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An open letter to my friends

 

Friendship is weird. You just pick a human you’ve met and you are like, “yep, I like this one” and you just do stuff with them

Dear friend

Thank you.

Thank you, firstly, for being my friend. Sounds lame, I know. But I just feel like it’s not said enough.

I appreciate you. I appreciate you letting me vent to you at 1am when my kids are being jerks. I appreciate you letting me vent to you at 1am when I have PMS and can’t sleep.

I appreciate you letting me vent.

Thank you for agreeing with me when I complain about stupid shit. Thank you for disagreeing with me when I’m complaining about stupid shit and being unreasonable.

To agree with me says you support me, to not be afraid to disagree says that you respect me enough to call me to account.

Thanks for sharing that post on Facebook that you knew I would find hilarious. I did. In fact, I literally lol’d. Thanks for laughing at the picture I put on your Facebook page.

Thanks for acknowledging my birthday. And pretending *wink* that I’m still 21. Thanks for acknowledging my kid’s birthdays as well. It means something to know that my kids are important to you.

Thank you for texting me and asking how my day was. Sometimes the message comes at the right time. The exact moment when I am deflating. It makes my day. Thanks also for telling me about your day. I like to know what you are up to (in a non-stalker kind of way)(kind of).

And now, about you. I think you are amazing. You are a great mother – did you know that? Things get tough, I know. And I don’t always talk to you but just know that I am thinking about you often. I see things that I know your kids would like, I see things that remind me of you, and them. It breaks my heart that I can’t see you and the kids, if I could wish one thing it would be that our kids could live side by side. Granted, not much would get done as you and I would be sitting on the couch drinking coffee wine all day long and semi-supervising our children. But it would be okay because the kids would get on wonderfully. Ha! I laughed at that as well!

I hope you aren’t lonely. I know you have other friends around you (none of whom are as amazing as me, of course)(I’m kidding)(kind of) but I worry that you aren’t as happy as you could be. I know you worry that I’m not happy, and I want you to know that I am doing okay. I laughed today over something the kids did, and it made me think of you. I hope you are laughing like a maniac too. Remember that time you laughed and slapped my knee instead of yours? You know it happened.

To my friends – I don’t expect you to answer every message I send you. I won’t be upset if you don’t respond. I know you are busy. Kids make us busy in indescribable ways. I won’t always respond either. And sometimes my answer will be “hddnfbururcbsak” because my kids ninja my phone. But when you need me, I will be there.

I’m an idiot. I have a wacky sense of humour and laugh at goats in trees. And you know that. And you are okay with that. I appreciate you appreciating my weirdness. Because deep down, you are an idiot too. Own it and move on.

Thank you for having my back. For supporting me when I needed it. Thank you for thanking me. I know it sounds silly, and I don’t act for the accolades. But sincere thank yous mean a lot.

Thank you for laughing with me, crying with me. Laughing with me when the only option is to cry. Regardless  whether we see each other daily, weekly, or every three years, when we get together it’s as though we saw each other yesterday, and I cherish that.

I cherish you.

You are an amazing friend, and I count myself lucky to have you in my life. You are a strong, beautiful woman and a fantastic mother. Your kids are damn lucky to have you as their mum. Your husband is flippen lucky to have you as his wife (well, duh).

Each and every one of you.

Thank you for being my friend.

Mrs T xx

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The Fantastic T Family Is On The Move

I’ve been quiet on here these past few weeks, because changes are a-foot in the Fantastic T household.

Mr T, dear husband, has received a promotion at work that will see us up-and-off, moving from windy, cold Wellington to just-absolutely-cold Queenstown! For those of you unfamiliar with New Zealand’s geography, Wellington is at the bottom of the North Island, Queenstown is near the bottom of the South Island. 943.9km away.

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Moving a family that far is a long, drawn out process. So it’s great that husband’s work gave us six weeks notice. Six weeks to uproot and change our entire lives. Not stressful at all, no siree.

Seriously though, this is an amazing opportunity for us all – the kids are at the age where they are so adaptable to change. BoyChild is 6 months from starting school and BabyGirl has yet to start any form of preschool, so the disruption for them is minimal. And husband gets the job he has been working hard towards for nearly ten years.

Princess is nervous and a little bit anxious about the move, but we spend a lot of time talking about all the many fun things we are going to be able to do when we get there. The snow! The skiing! The adventures! She already has a little book for addresses and she is excitedly getting everyone’s details so she can write letters to all her friends.

How about me, then? Well, I won’t lie – I’m scared. I’m excited, and nervous and anxious. I’m happy and I’m so sad I get a pit in my stomach whenever I think about the reality of up and leaving the community that I have spent the last five years building around myself.

People are telling me that I will meet new people, make new friends – and gosh, that is exactly what I am telling Princess! But here’s the thing – I don’t actually feel like I’m ready to say goodbye to the friends I have.

I have written about my friends before, I absolutely freakin love them. When husband and I moved here and had kids, I didn’t know anyone. I met one amazing lady when Princess started kindergarten (her son started the same day) and it was with her that we then met another, and another, and another like minded person, until we had formed a tight knit group. We are all mothers, we all work part time, and we spend a lot of time together. Our kids are best friends. Our husbands are great friends. And I am going to have to say goodbye to them in two weeks. I’m not ready.

I know I will see them again, and with the wonders of social media I will talk to them most days online. But it will be four months before I see them again. Kids grow a lot, will BabyGirl even remember that she has an inseparable friendship with her little friend?

Friends are hard to make when you are an adult. I learned a long time ago to treasure those that come along, because amazing friends are rare. I know that my friends here know that I treasure them. I spend my days trying to be strong for the kids, for the husband, excited for this wonderful new chapter in our lives. But I am scared of saying “see you sometime soon” to these ladies who share my life with me.

I will miss the night time trips to the supermarket together, “just to get out of the house”, I will miss the random drop ins because they were passing and saw my car in the drive, I will miss the pot luck dinners, the coffee trips. I will miss the laughs-until-our-tummies-hurt-and-we-pee-a-little-and-laugh-some-more.

I’m sure in six months, a year, I will look back and laugh at how concerned I was about the move. I will visit here and things will be just like they always were. But still. I’m scared. And sad.

We leave in 17 days. I am cramming as much into these days as I can. Day or night, I’m opening myself up to see as many people as I can. And relishing days like today, where I got to spend the day with three friends and their kids. And got to cuddle my amazing friend’s 4 week old baby, sad that she will grow so much in between visits.

That’s the thing with being an adult – sometimes you have to make decisions that are best for those around you, and take steps that scare you. It’s all what makes us who we are.

Doesn’t mean I have to do it with dry eyes.

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