I've been getting several offers of help lately.  Nothing to do with fixing my basement, but anything and everything about the upcoming baby.  I ran into a friend at my son's school, and she asked my family over to dinner, "just so you won't have to cook and clean up one night."  I told her I would get back to her, not really thinking about it.  Then my son had a friend over on Friday.  Two hyper little boys running all over the place, wanting nothing to eat except macaroni and cheese.  Since this playdate was quite unexpected, and having a guest over for dinner also unexpected, I had to run to the store, rush back home, clean up some to make room for the kids, cook for the kids (and then make meatloaf for me and daddy, since we NEVER get to eat it), and then cleaned up afterwards.  And then lie down, because I had done too much, which is SO much easier to do than usual!

I called my friend after I was done and said we'd love to come over for dinner!  And we had a wonderful time.  We got to know each other better, and she is an excellent cook, so eating at her house is always a pleasure.  Good conversation that had more to do with comparing martini recipies than politics, and dog and kid stories, and not politics, and funny jokes, and not the economy or gas prices.  Sharing favorite websites and talking about tv shows and movies, and not about politics.  It was a good time.  Her hubby and mine talked about computers, while I attempted to charm the recipie for dinner out of her!

I have a hard time accepting offers for help.  I could always use it, but then I get a little concerned about what other people think.  This time around I'm less uptight about it, I think, but I still have a hard time saying 'yes' to these well-meaning people.  But just going to someone else's house to enjoy dinner and adult company was something we hadn't done in a very long time, and apparently was needed.  But of course, now we are exhausted, and my husband still has a few hours' work ahead of him to get a project finished on time for a class.  I get to go to sleep.  Night, all.

When I was a sophomore in high school, I became friends with (quick inhale) a senior.  She was nice, willing to talk to me, we got along.  Mostly because we shared boy troubles.  In high school?  Common battlefield.  We had enough in common that we decided we had been sold from the same gypsy tribe!  Anyway, she graduated, and we hadn't seen each other since.  There was the occasional Christmas card over the years, but she went 3,000 miles away for school, life, and to be close to family.  So we didn't see each other much.  She was in town this weekend for her 20th reunion.

At first, I was nervous about seeing her, because back then, we had more in common.  Add twenty years.  Bill paying, job searches, taxes, mortgages, all the things grown-up life throws at you.  I really thought we wouldn't have too much to talk about.  I knew what was going on in her life, and vice versa.  And boy trouble was really not common ground any more, if you catch my drift.

Boy, was I wrong!

We met for breakfast, and I realized what I really wanted was for her to meet my family.  She was my best friend, and I wanted her to meet my other best friends, my husband and son.  They loved her, and she them.  It was so gratifying to see my son drawing pictures for her, giving her candy from his stash, and just being sweet to her.  Of course, part of it was because he knew this was someone who was special in my youth.  The other part was just because that's the way he is.  The more we talked, the more impressed I became with the fact I was ecstatic to see her.  She looked great, and she's content and happy with her life.  She loved my family, and that meant worlds to me.  I didn't realize how much I missed her until she got here.  We were genuinely happy for how life had turned out for each other.  No competition or comparisons.  She didn't care that my house looked like a trailer park after the tornado.  She saw a happy home, filled with people who welcomed her with open arms.

Damn, it was good to see her.