A Good Friend is a Good Friend Until the Bitter End; Like It Or Not!

I had to bid farewell (not good-bye) to a very dear friend this afternoon.  Not only to her, but to her beautiful children as well.  My kids' first and still friends.  We spent so much time together when our kids were young we'd joke that we were each other's "daytime husbands"!  Yet life got busier and the kids' needs grew as they grew, so we hadn't seen much of each other in the past year or so.  But each time we did, after the quick catch-up of current events, it was like picking up where we left off. Cliche I know, but true just the same.

But we can't blame busy lives for the upcoming separation.  She's moving halfway across the country to start a new adventure and leaving many friends and a lot of family behind to miss them terribly.  I'm sad yet happy for her.  I'm hopeful she'll build a great new life with new friends yet worried that it won't happen soon enough and she'll be lonely.  I want her to miss us all but hope she's too busy living to do just that.  I guess the bottom line is, I hope for her happiness...and for a place in her heart that's only for me.

I've discovered it's harder to make friends when you're a grown-up than when you're young and less self-conscious.  I remember my freshman year of high school and walking up to absolutely everyone I saw saying, "Hi! I'm Eileen Cassidy.  I'm a freshman; are you?" Seriously. Every single person.  By the end of the week, I could remember only a handful of names yet most remembered the dolt walking around with a goofy smile introducing herself to anyone who'd listen.  It actually worked out quite well for me in the shorter long run; because I met everyone, I didn't fall into a click with the grammar school friends I had but hovered around everyone like a bee around flowers, enjoying it all and missing little.  And it was easy.

It always seemed to be easy.  I didn't have a best friend to speak of but many close friends, some  whom I remain close to to this day.  I didn't have the "graduate from high school in June and start full-time college in the Fall" experience of dorm-mates or sorority sisters but I already had friends and made new friends with coworkers and night-schoolmates.  There was always something business or social going on to keep me well-stocked in friends.   It was brainless; no work required. 

Then I became a stay-at-home mom.  Actually I became a housewife and then a stay-at-home mom.  Because of the economy, I was laid off and was home (alone) for almost a year and a half before my son was born.  I had full intentions of returning to work after a six month hiatus but then I got pregnant and well...At any rate, my deep well of new relationship opportunities was drying up and because I no longer went into an office or spoke to 40 clients a day, I was getting lonely.  But I had the baby and then 15 months later had another baby, so socializing was pretty far down the list.  I was lucky enough to have some great neighbors who checked in on me when they could but the majority of the time it was just the three of us; not a whole lot of conversational interaction going on there! (Yes, of course my husband was around but he was working a LOT...nuff said!)

But when I finally had had enough of my own company, I went out to parks to meet other moms swinging toddlers on baby swings or pushing strollers along the path.  The problem was, these moms were perfectly happy with the status quo, or so it seemed, that I was pretty much ignored or worse yet, I received curt replies to my questions or comments.  Major blow.  Major!  I realized my problem was, though, that I came to the party not only late in life, but late in the life-style too!  While I was a DINK* working well into my 30's....like well into them, these women were younger than I and had already been doing this mothering thing and therefore were pros!  I mean, it has to be that, right?  My shtick worked my freshman year so, like, what?!

Not until I moved to a new house in a new town with my new babies meeting new neighbors and getting involved in a MOMS group, did I finally FINALLY realize that it's not hard to make friends...especially when you have kids and even when you're old...ahem.  But it's not as easy as it was when we were five or 10 or even 20.  And friendships mean more when you're older.  It means sharing serious conversation about serious, private issues that you know will not be shared with another human (well, maybe a spouse but you can kill them if they blab).  

I think that's why losing this particular friend is hitting me so hard.  She's the one who taught me to trust in another woman my deepest darkest fears and secrets.  The one who knew me best and who I leaned on when I desperately needed someone to lean on when no one else on the planet, including my husband, knew I needed to lean.  To rest easy knowing that she will take my confidences to her grave without even thinking about it.  The one who will, even miles and miles away, be there when I need her as long as I ask her. 

 So before I start going into something really personal, let me just say this:  friendship, like marriage, is not easy (when you're an adult.)  To sustain it, it takes patience and kindness and acceptance; all traits awarded to one who's taken some punches and realized it's all in the name of Adulthood.  I look at it as one of the gifts we get for growing old...you know, one of the few gifts for growing old.  Patience, compassion, and friendship...friendship that lasts through separation, time, and age.

So to my dear friend I say, no matter where we are or how old we become, you can always count on me...for ever and ever and, well, ever.

*Double income no kids

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop

Just One Wafer-Thin Mint?

I was thinking of the Monty Python sketch the other day while cramming the last bit of food from my plate lest I waste a morsel.  It was the "One wafer-thin mint".  Do you know it?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HJZPzQESq_0

It's one of their more disgusting bits but best describes how I feel a good portion of the time when I finally push away from the table!  Seriously! Too stuffed to eat another bite but...well...okay, one little Andes mint to top me off.  POOF!!  Then come the morning after, I step on the scale butt naked so I can't "allow" a couple of pounds for my pj's, and am astonished that I've made absolutely no progress in my weight loss efforts!  I even went so far once as to send an email to the scale company saying that their scale is obviously inaccurate (I really did!) 

Why do I do this to myself every single time I try to make a conscious effort to lose weight?  When I make an effort to exercise I don't stick nails in my bike tire so why do I sabotage the weight loss effort?!  Sometimes I'm even fully aware of what I'm doing...okay, most of the time.  Whatever, all the time!  I think to myself, "Self, you've had a weight loss for the past three days.  Don't eat the Krimpet.  Just put it down, walk away, and get a drink of water or a grape."  But then the devil on my shoulder says, "SHUT UP!"  And that's that!

I will, however, go so far as to say that although I'm about 25 pounds heavier than I'd like, I pretty much maintain (read I haven't gained another 25) thanks to exercise.  I can't even imagine my size without 10 mile bike rides five or six times a week!  But even with my dietary slip-ups I really can't understand my inability to lose weight!  I've tried everything (not hypnosis...too pricey!) short of lopping off a leg to lose even five pounds (how happy would I be if my leg only weighed five pounds?!)  And when I say I've tried, I've really tried.  I've flicked the shoulder devil off and have actually eaten a grape instead...or drank a glass of water (or lemon water with a little unfiltered apple cider vinegar thrown in...yum, right?!)  I've opted for fruit salad at a BBQ and club soda in my wine but nothing!  Maybe 1.2 pounds today, 1/2 pound tomorrow, and 3/4 pound the next, only to be followed by a two pounds gain on day four!!  What?!  Yes, there are those mornings that I go downstairs to the kitchen completely defeated and reach right for the Capt. Crunch or bagel thinking, "Screw it!  Nothing works! Embrace the big butt!"  Then I feel gross and guilty and fat and sometimes ruin my whole day's outlook.  What a drag!  What a vicious cycle I've created for myself!!

So how do I break it?  There's got to be an answer to this right?  Hormone replacement therapy since menopause's bony hands have taken hold of me?  Starvation?  No carbs?  Atkins, South Beach, Paleo?  Tried, tried, tried, and tried more than a few times.  I think the answer is in the same hidden treasure chest as the answer to the meaning of life.  I'm beginning to settle for acceptance.  I'm not throwing my hands in the air quitting and bellying up to the toppings bar at Yogurtland, but I'm not beating myself up (as much) when I "slip" and eat a Hostess treat.  Yes, I'll still get annoyed at myself and even shake my head in disgust and maybe even whimper quietly when I can't button that damn button on my jeans that CLEARLY is sewn on WAY too far from the hole on the other side.  I'll even try a new holistic product if it's within my parameters of possibly wasting money on it, or a combination of supplements and vitamins designed to curb my appetite and keep the parts lubed.

But here's what I won't do:  I won't stop doing my hair, my make-up, or my nails.  I won't stop treating myself to a new dress or skirt.  However, I won't buy the next size up if it doesn't fit; I'll just go without.  Totally a psychological thing but too bad.  I won't silently curse my thin friends because I think and sometimes know that although they look fabulous, they have their own demons and shoulder devils to wrestle with.  I won't roll my eyes when they whine about gaining SEVEN POUNDS OVER THE WINTER because I know that they work out diligently and like my frustration with dieting to no avail, they too are bewildered as to the "why".

I think unless you're Jack LaLanne (he's the juice guy to those born after 1975) or that scary chic on The Biggest Loser, maintaining a healthy lifestyle has to be a conscious, always there choice (and honestly?  It probably is for those people as well.)  The reality of it is those people who can eat and eat and be thin and muscular and do absolutely nothing are very, very few and far between.  Unfortunately I'm friends with most of them!  But really, if I were the only one battling this issue, it wouldn't be the number one retail industry in the US!   It's been said a million times that Hollywood is to blame for the self-loathing of our body image.  Or Barbie.  Or Twiggy (google her, youngin's!)  In all fairness, though, I challenge anyone to find an advertisement that EVER had a Rubenesque woman as their model; fit girls sell more stuff.  Hollywood's not to blame, our own inferiority complex is...our drive to look like the girl in the ad; at least in my case.  I am going to try really hard to see the good in the mirror and forgive the not-so good.  To be aware of the imperfections and hope that if I maintain a healthy lifestyle, eventually....like really really eventually my body will acquiesce. And if not, I'll get one of those scooters to get around!

~Eileen Cassidy Bishop 

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming...

My children swim on two swim teams; one Summer, one Winter.  They are 10 and 11 years old.  They swim anywhere from two to five (maximum) events out of about 65.  Their races last anywhere from 20 seconds to 1.5 minutes.  That's it. And if you miss it, welp, sorry!!  No replay monitors!  Usually, my kids couldn't care one iota if I missed their event...until I do. That's the time they come up all excited squealing, "Didya see me? I took 3 seconds off my time!!"  Without skipping a beat, I lie through my teeth; "You didn't hear me screaming?  You were amazing!!  Good job!"   Technically not a lie; I often scream when they're swimming and they're ALWAYS amazing!  Oy.

I'm sure, if you spend any time on Facebook, you have read at least one blog about a swim meet.  They're exciting...in two minute blocks.  But those two minutes?  Nail biting exciting!! Especially when it comes to your own kids.  The rest of the four-ish hours are spent doing whatever job you've volunteered for or, if you have the meet off, reading a book, chatting with other prisoners, um, parents, slathering lotion on your swimmers (when they come over to you ONLY to ask for something to drink, eat, or buy from the snack bar), and trying desperately to align your chair to be even somewhat in the shade.  Good times...good times.  I saw a tee shirt once that read, "If I only have one day left to live, I want to spend it at a swim meet 'cause they last forever".  True that!

When the last regular Summer season meet arrives, there is much rejoicing!  There's a pasta lunch and inspiration bags (filled with inspiring quotes and goodies for and from fellow teammates), a camp-out, team family skits, and award nights...and saying farewell to graduating seniors leaving for college or points unknown.  The entire month of July is dedicated to daily morning practice and preparing to either host a meet or actively participate in an "away" meet.  So come the last meet on the last Saturday of July, everyone is ready for a break.  Suddenly, however, every kid now WANTS to go to the pool and spend the entire day there.  Why?  Why else?  Because no one is telling them they have to!  The nice thing is not having to be there as early as 7:30 a.m.  There is an air of relaxation between the kids and the moms (read chauffeurs), summer vacations away are planned (now permitted since no meets will be missed) and the chat doesn't focus solely on swimming.  It's a nice respite before, for some, it starts all over again in October!

Why do we do it?  Why do we give up evenings for one or two hour practices three to five times a week and sometimes entire weekends for a two-day meet in the Winter and every morning and Saturday in the Summer?  Because it's an awesome experience!  Not just for the swimmers, but for the rest of us watching these boys and girls give they're all doing something I could BARELY do when I was a kid!  Reading their faces when they win a race; watching them shake hands with their neighboring competitors and cheering on the last one lagging far behind.  Seeing they're proud faces when they go up to receive their place ribbons while their teammates clap for them.  It's deafening when these kids, either still trying to psyche themselves up for their own race or after spending the last four plus hours swimming or trying to stay cool (they're not allowed in the pool except for their events), are cheering for individual swimmers and the relay teams at the top of their collective lungs screaming, "SWIM FAST!! PULL!!  GOOD TURN!!  GO! GO! GO!"  It's an amazing camaraderie between swimmers, and swimmers and their coaches; not to mention the parents patting each other on the back congratulating each other for their kid's win (or good try).  It's cool. Very.

My kids' grandparents will never see them swim live (I love them too much to make them sit in either the blistering Summer sun or the mind-numbing humidity of the indoor Winter season) and I'll continue to bitch and moan about one thing or another.  But I hope the day never comes, and it very well may, when I hear, "I don't think I'm going to swim this year."

~ Eileen Cassidy Bishop

I want to give a shout out to our team's own alum, Kelsi Worrell, the best Fly girl at the PanAm games 2015!  She's on the Olympic track and we could not be happier or prouder!! She has been an inspiration to every swimmer on our team!! Swim fast, Kelsi, you got this!!!