The marrow of joy.

“It’s madness.”

My friend, Molly, texts me to ask how I’m doing and that was my response. She’s my life-line to the outside world at times and always manages to make me smile. Our virtual conversations brighten my life and go back some seven plus years now online and started the day I pretended to be a creepy neighbor staring over a fence when I moved into the cubicle next to hers at a job. I vied for her attention by saying, “Hey? Hey? Do you like people to stare at you?” My bizarre, unsolicited comments have continued since.


I took a break from Facebook recently, fearing that I over share, and almost closed my account until I read the fine print and realized that I wouldn’t just be ditching an electronic account. It would mean flushing a decade’s worth of memories and conversations from my history that had helped shape who I am and build the relationships that are the very meat of my reality. How could I possibly delete into nothingness the souvenirs of those I love? “Over sharing” be damned, I’d rather apologize for being misunderstood than regret never trying to understand and I certainly wasn’t going to throw the words of those I love into the ether because I had mistakenly offended someone.


So in honor, and thanks, to our friendship and those of you that have brought me to thankful tears at times with your immeasurable support and love. Here are some of my questionable, embarrassing, humbling, and, hopefully, humorous responses in that long conversation with her that makes such a significant ingredient in the joy of my life. (Thank you, Molly. I promise I’m only quoting myself…)

In no certain order:

“How are you? I’m trapped in my house…the prison guards are covered in fur,” our cats, “and shout out updates of my location to the warden (Jamie).” It was like they were shouting out warnings of “fat woman walking!” I tripped on the cats when I was pregnant.

“Who has athlete’s foot in her cleavage, an ingrown hair on her scalp, and a soft pelt of black hair all over? ME!” Pregnancy hormones are merciless.

“She’s our adorable imp. The screaming jags have ended and life has improved. How are you?” Colic…I still have trauma.

“Us stay-at-home moms have very active fantasy lives…the Sims game got nothing on me.” Preach.

“Nora is getting better now that she has infected us with her cold. I of course, as mom, am not allowed to be sick. In her defense, two days of simultaneously coughing and sharting your pants can’t be good. I was saved from that symptom.”

“Lonely, trapped under bodies.” Cluster feedings with a tongue-tied, growth spurt riddled infant and a jealous toddler.

“Burnt out, depressed, usual.” I was Barb’s raging pity-party.


“Life doesn’t fit me well lately. I think our cat senses how jealous I am of her. Lazy bitch.”

“Uhoh, should I stop making you laugh? Nora likes to lean across my lap and request a back rub when she has gas now so I can make her fart. She’s my adorable whoopee cushion.” Still is and does…

“I can hug like Owen but you don’t deserve a headbutt.” He’s learning…

“I would totally write a Vikings durge for you.” My sympathy and attempts at cheering people up are as awkward as myself.

“I could totally go for a sedative right now…and a nanny…and a cabana boy holding a boat drink out to me as I sit in the soaking pool at Edgefield and listen to Nina Simone in the background while someone rubs my feet, followed by a massage, a huge dinner of Osso Bucco and a good chianti, followed by an entire Dutch Apple Pie to myself. Then a huge tub of warm kettle corn and a pitcher of cider while I sit in the most comfortable theatre ever made and watch a movie starring Michael Fassbender, Clive Owen, Tom Hardy and Jude Law. The storyline doesn’t matter but they all accidentally tear each other’s clothes off.”

“Shit. I thought trying to sing your kid a lullaby and having them shoosh you was bad enough.” Nora doesn’t like Patsy Cline.

You made me a meme!! I feel all warm and fuzzy…it might be the drugs though… Nah, it’s you 😉 ”

It’s still you, friend, thank you.

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