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“You can always tell when two people are best friends because they are having more fun than it makes sense for them to be having…”
Men will never understand. How could they? We women are beautifully complicated and mysterious creatures. The girlfriend connection, is in many ways, like a secret society made up of whispered gossip in the corner of the room, uncontrollable giggles, dramatic squabbles and buckets of tears that mere mortals could never possibly comprehend.
When we gather together away from our duties, outwardly social personas and everyday demands we ladies can be a rather boisterous and entertaining group! (Well, we think so anyway!) Throw in a couple of bottles of wine and a tub of Costco hummus and chips and you’ve got a recipe for a deliciously naughty, laugh-until-your-sides hurt event.
They say that if you reach the end of your life and you have one true friend, you are a lucky person. If this is bona fide, then I am indeed blessed. I have five best friends…rather, five sisters. We have been friends for many, many years. We have raised our children together, supported one another through the loss of our parents, illnesses, thrown over-the-top parties together, celebrated weddings and baby showers for grandchildren on the way. We nurture, support and applaud each other. No matter the news in our lives, good or bad, we race to the phone to share it with one another.
The best thing about this kind of sisterhood is that true friendships like these…the life-long lasting ones, are bullet proof. Not distance, divorce, illness, job changes, money problems, children issues or weight gain can alter the bond between true best friends. That’s when you know you have stumbled upon something special…And when you recognize that you’ve got it, you savor it, protect it and want more. More chit-chat, more giggles, more time with your besties.
This loyalty and love for our best girlfriends is not a dig against our men. We love our husbands! But let’s be honest: There are certain things…feelings that we share that men simply don’t have the tolerance for. Such as: New shoes. Eye wrinkle creams. Botox. The dissecting of the latest Nicolas Sparks book. The misunderstanding you had with your mother…your dentist…your sister…your daughters ballet teacher. Over the years our husbands have found that its actually a GOOD THING for us to have girlfriend time. It saves them an ear full of mindless chatter about things they have positively no interest in whatsoever.
The time with our BFFs is very important to us girls. We will change a 3 month standing hair appointment (gasp!) to meet up for lunch with the group. We will leave our children’s piano recitals early (shameful but it feels so right) to join the girls for happy hour appetizers and champagne. We will pay babysitters double when our husbands are out of town, to come on a Saturday night so that we can meet the girls for popcorn and the latest chick-flick movie. We rationalize the expense to doing something nice for our husbands who would never want to be forced to endure that movie anyway…
Yes. We are self-sacrificing too.
Several years ago, we “sisters” met for a girls weekend with the decadent plans of an uninterrupted dinner at a restaurant with no children’s menus and a spa day in Austin, Texas. We stayed at a fancy hotel downtown. As the Bellmen attempted to unload our luggage from my SUV on to the cart, they couldn’t help but notice our “in-room, happy-hour preparations”. Being seasoned, helicopter, type-A moms we had left no stone un-turned in this area. The check list had been vast: Wine, chips, wine, cheese, wine, crackers, wine, hummus, wine, salsa…oh, and wine.
The Bellmen snickered, “You ladies sure are planning to have a fun weekend!”
We laughed as though embarrassed by the amount of libations on the cart because that’s what we’re supposed to do being upstanding, society-conscious women. But deep down, we were not embarrassed at all. Oh no. We had earned that weekend…including every last piece of pie we planned to eat at dinner that night and the wine headache we knew would come in the morning. We would wear our weight gain and the bags under our eyes as badges of honor upon returning to our families.
It was during this particular outing, that we were actually given our group name and it has stuck with us ever since…
After getting us situated into our room with our ridiculous amount of luggage for our overnight rendezvous, the Bellman asked if we would like the hotel van to take us to the restaurant for dinner.
One sister replied, “Well that would be lovely! Thank you for asking. Ladies, can we all be ready for dinner around 6:00pm?”
We all nodded yes and it was decided. We had a plan. 6:00pm-ready to go, down in the lobby to catch the van for dinner. (We ladies never mess around when it comes to dinner plans. There is always an iron-clad plan for food.)
Like clockwork, one by one, the sisters descended from the elevator, dressed to the nine’s. Compliments went around to all within the circle of trust, “Oh where did you get those shoes? They are darling!” “I love your hair, new color?” “That bag is precious, is it new?”
The Bellman came over to us, “Ladies, the van is ready when you are.” He smiled. “You all look beautiful!” We blushed. Then as if on automatic we exclaimed how many total children we had from our group, as if fishing for him to say, “Wow! How could that be?? You all look too young to have children!” (Hey, don’t judge. It’s a girls trip… you make the most of your time.)
Once inside the van, we overheard the dispatcher come over the loud speaker. “Van one, what’s your destination?” The Bellman who was now our driver smiled and said, “This is Van One and I’m taking the Smoking Hot Moms to Eddie V’s Restaurant for dinner.”
“What did he just say?? Did he actually just call us, Smoking Hot Mom’s??”
You bet your ass he did. And when people call you Smokin Hot anything in your 40’s, you not only remember it, you adopt it and hold on to it for dear life.
And just like that, our brand was born and we will be forevermore known as, The Smokin Hot Mom’s. If you don’t know who we are, we will tell you. If you want to join our group, sorry, we’re full. We are a closed society now. Too many secrets, too many stories “in the vault” to share and too tired to start over with anyone else who isn’t privy to our personal idiosyncrasies … Harsh, but just the way it is. We’re comfortable with one another like a pair of old slippers. We just work.
As the years go by, we are no longer quite as hot (dare I admit this is true?)… I suppose it would be more appropriate to call ourselves the Smoldering, Warm Mom’s but where’s the fun in that?
It’s true, most of us can no longer find our abs and our stiletto’s have been replaced with Naturalizer’s for the most part. But lucky for us, the spirit within doesn’t age. When we get together, our plans may differ from the ones we planned years ago… now instead of the 11:00pm comedy show, we’ll book the 7:00pm, to be in bed by 10pm. But it’s okay. The laughter is still the same. The re-hashed stories are still hilarious. The love… is still the same. So, I think we’re good to remain Smokin Hot Mom’s until the bitter end. That’s just how we prefer to roll.
Are we an embarrassment to our grown children. You betcha. But make no mistake, we like it that way. Who knows? Maybe we will be an inspiration to the next generation of girls to make the girlfriends in their lives a priority. We want them to laugh until it hurts, share their long-winded, emotional rants with friends who truly care about them and love them as though birthed from the same mother.
Having girlfriends is not a referendum on men, our everyday lives or our children. Not at all. We love our lives and our families. However, we feel no need to apologize for wanting to fill this part of our well…too! These fun times make us happy… and we all know when mama’s happy…everybody’s happy!
You can have it all. Giggle until you cry. Cry until you giggle. Share your deepest thoughts. Be there to listen when the people around you, need you. Try new things. Laugh at your mistakes. Live out loud. Fill your well. Work hard, play hard.
And if you don’t have friends like this, get some. And don’t just smolder when you find them…be SMOKIN HOT.
“We’ll be friends forever, won’t we, Pooh?” Asked Piglet. “Even longer,” Pooh answered.
May we all be so lucky…
Love and blessings,
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