My Love Letter

The Gaggle.


That is the moniker that Joe has given to my group of girlfriends. Honestly, it could be worse. I am sure. And I know there is part of him that just cringes every time I go off for a get together with the girls, because save a pillow fight in our underwear (which for the record, NEVER happens boys) he knows that most of my time will be spent taking his name in vain, along with all the other significants , somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,874,243 times in a 4-5 hour span.

But the Gaggle is something I have come to love more than I can really explain. Keep in mind, I was a military brat growing up (no comment on the brat portion of that experience) and therefore had friends come and go on about a 4 year cycle. That is not to say that there are not a handful of people from my childhood that I still email occasionally and follow on Facebook, but they are the rare, rare exception. And even into high school, I tended to be more of one of the guys than the girls. Again, with a small exception – and those girls I *wish* lived in Des Moines and were part of the more regular gaggle. Nope, it wasn’t until college and post that I started to get why girlfriends are so important. This was something my mother knew very well. Her girlfriends were and ARE still a very real part of our lives.

It starts with the dynamic of the gaggle. We are all fairly similar in age – plus or minus like 5 years. We cross the spectrum of married, single, dating, living together, kids, no-kids, careers, stay-at-home, liberal, conservative, all body types, vegetarian, total meat eaters, long hair, short hair – I think its fair to say that you get the idea. Not sure what it is that ties us together, but its something. That we see bits of ourselves in each other, that we see what we want to be in each other, that we can be honest about what is really going on in our lives, cry, laugh, snort, or just hug it out bitch– all in the name of girlfriends. Because we don’t judge. Or least we try not to judge. Because as honest as we are, we can still be snarky, judgmental, bratty and sometimes just not nice. But hey, we are women, not saints. Far from it.

Prime example was last night – we managed to get a date on the calendar that at least 3 people could confirm. That’s the down side of the gaggle, scheduling is a bitch. If we get together every 2 months, we are doing great. So last night, here I was getting emotional about PUTTING MY KIDS TO BED. I am sure the wine didn’t help, but come on…

In all fairness, our bedtime ritual is pretty cute. I get a few minutes of downtime with each of the kids, one on one. And Finn always does this thing when I tuck him in, he takes his chubby little hands, puts them on either one of my cheeks and says “Hi Mama, Good night Mama” and then kisses me goodnight. And my heart pretty much melts each time.

Point being, I got a little blubbery about bedtime and they just smiled, handed me a Kleenex and probably poured me another glass of wine. After that, we headed to the living room for a dance party. See, that’s how we roll. Emotional highs and lows and a dance party. On a school night. We so crazy.

I guess what this really is, is a love letter to my gaggle. They have seen me at my worst, my most questionable and my highs. And they are always there in any of those situations with a Kleenex, a laugh and lets not kid ourselves, probably a glass of wine. And I hearts them lots for that.

Now Listening: Rolling in the Deep by Adele