four

There were four of us. I have to say I think we were strongest junior year of high school, but the concept of the four of us has never left my mind - even if it has for you Kelly, Joanna and Holly. Even when we didn't speak (um, sorry, that was me) for a couple of years, I remembered the four of us. Before I walked down the steps to the bar a year ago (and I'm not sure which of us had a bigger shock), I can't even remember when the four of us were last in the same room together. I'm tempted to say it was as long ago as the summer I got back from Australia. Can anyone remember anything in between?

What strikes me as funny sometimes is how much we have all become our mothers. Ok, not in all respects, which is good, because three of us didn't want to be our mothers, we wanted to be Holly's mother. I mean who wouldn't? Who else would pack extra celery sticks and ranch dressing for the extra period (actually, I think it was a mod?) after chemistry for her daughter's friends? And who else would suggest making rice crispies treats when her daughter's friends just rock up after school? And who else would buy her daughter sexy underwear because she was concerned that she wasn't having sex? So basically, if we couldn't have Wave as our mother, we all wanted to be Wave when we had kids.

That was before I had kids. Not that I want to be anyone else or their mother. Cause if you are a mother, thats how people see you - as a mother. So if anyone (besides your children) thinks you are clever or pretty, for even half a second on a business call, its a good thing. Because, so often it is easy to get so wrapped up in the kids and whats going on in their lives that you forget about you. Meanwhile, Holly, who of all of us has become so much like her mother, shames me at her unbelieveably motherliness. Almost every day boasts a new story about Bela's activities or how much Holly loves the little one to pieces and misses her when she is gone (although part of me is tempted to say that the difference between having boys and having girls). Meanwhile, my blogs are about driving and photography (a subject I know little about) and occasionally eating. And most of the pictures on my blog are of me, not of my little monsters.

Don't worry Holly, your motherly perfection doesn't scare me, cause I know you are still Holly and I am still me. But I have to say that for a few months, I was a little miffed I wasn't included on your links section of your blog. Oh, I tried not to take it personally, but I did check back a lot to see if I was ever gonna be added. Eventually I gave it up. You know, sometimes I do manage to get over my bad self. Until today. Today you mentioned the reading of blogs and I remembered I haven't checked up on my future daughter-in-law in a few days. (I mean, if I can't be Wave, or have her for my mother, then damn straight I'm gonna make sure my son gets her as his wife - thats right other mommies - I've got dibs!) So I had a look and since I had more than 3 minutes, I decided to check out some of your links.

Hmmm, I thought to myself. Where to start? Hot Mama? Yeah, that looks interesting. Holy shit - thats me! I actually squealed with a mixture of delight and embarrasment. I was actually so embarrased at my petty little hurts of not being added. So I thought to myself, that I was never gonna tell anyone how bloody blind, dumb and silly I was. And then it struck me for the first time, I kinda like being called mama - as long as the word hot is in front of it. So then I realised I have to tell everyone. And even if we are growing up and having babies, really, some things haven't changed much since high school. You are still you and I am still me and half of the time we still talk about the same damn things - and maybe someday soon, the four of us will all go to a salon to have our hair dyed together (by professionals).

And as an added bonus - some pictures of the red in me.