A friend is someone who's friendly

In my favorite episode of THE MARY TYLER MOORE SHOW, Mary dates a younger man and in order to fit in and impress his (also) younger friends, she goes to a hip and young clothing store to find something "cute" to wear to his party. There are so many wonderful moments, from Rhoda's bewilderment at Mary's insecurity to the salesgirl's complete disinterest, but my favorite moment is when Rhoda picks up a small book for sale in the store and reads it aloud...

"A Friend is Someone Who's Friendly - A friend is someone who's friendly. Even when it's raining, even when it's nighttime, even when it's snowing, even when it isn't. (She slams the book shut) Three-fifty!"

I love that. I remember books like that. ("Or even a white mouse," is from one of them.)

Watching my daughter grow up, I see her make friends like that. When she was three, just having the same shoes as another little girl was as good a reason as any to be friends. When she was 5, she just automatically made friends with the girl who sat closest to her in class. Now that she's older, I'm watching her become more choosy... thinking about the big picture, whether or not a friend will fit in with the friends she already has. Trying to decide if a new friend will be able to work around our crazy schedule or will just get frustrated and give up. Wondering if she'll fit in with the other kids' friends...

In preschool her friends' moms automatically became my friends. I had spent the better part of my life choosing my own friends based on our common interests and a good sense of humor and now suddenly "the boss" was assigning me my cohorts. The kids wanted to play after school - I couldn't very well just let some stranger take her home, even if she DID have an extra car seat and a house south of the boulevard. So we started slowly... a trip to the park, a walk after school, an hour at the indoor playground at the mall. They would play and we would talk. About what? Milestones usually. Kindergarten applications, public school versus private school, vaccinations, potty training, allergies, siblings, grandparents... And so I ended up with a new group of friends. One I had nothing in common with except the age of our children but at the time, it wasn't all bad.

Recently I had what they call a "milestone" birthday. Let's face it - it's just a good excuse for a party. But as I crafted the witty invitation that would be my online "evite", I was struck by the fact that NONE of the people I would be inviting were present at my last "milestone" birthday, 10 years previous. My current friends been collected at her elementary school. Again, no thought for our common interests, except we had all chosen this particular school for our kids and they had ended up in the same kindergarden class. In fact, I didn't even collect the group for myself. I just wormed my way into an already formed group of mommies. There were parties and girls nights out and hours spent gossiping in the school parking lot after drop off. I was set, or so I thought.

But unlike the friends we make ourselves, the friends our children "arrange" for us don't necessarily last a lifetime. We're still friends, most of us. Some closer than others, of course. But now the kids are old enough that we have friends based on their activities. We don't spend hours hovering around the classroom anymore. Now our hours are spent on the soccer field or swim team, ball park or ballet studio, sports boosters or PTA. And I can see it's going to happen again... it's not long until the kids will be at a new school and we will have to start all over again. But at this point, I'm not expected to make friends with her friends' moms. In fact, I think she'd rather I didn't. Just know them well enough to call up and arrange a sleepover or ask them to fax the homework she forgot. Not well enough to compare notes... ("I heard little Seymore went to the principal for fighting and isn't he your daughter Carly's boyfriend???" "Boyfriend?! My precious baby girl Carly would never have a boyfriend!!!") And the older she gets, the less she will want me to hover on the edges of her life. She will not want me to be best friends with her best friend's mother, the way she does now. She will want me to have my own friends and leave her "the hell alone"! (Screamed at me as she is slamming her bedroom door, no doubt.)

So I am going to have to remember how to make my own friends again. I'm experimenting - making a few new friends who are not parents at her school, who do not have children the exact same age. We still have stuff in common - and in a lot of ways we are very different. But it's kind of fun - choosing friends because we like each other, not just because our kids are friends. Not just because it's raining. Not just because it isn't. A friend is someone who's friendly. Even if her kid isn't best friends with yours. Crazy, huh? Maybe I should write a book...

A Friend is Someone Who's Friendly.

A friend is someone who's friendly,

even if their kids go to a different school,

even if they don't come to all the soccer games,

even if they aren't active on the PTA,

even if they are.

Hmmm... maybe I couldn't get $12.95 for it but I could probably get $3.50!

The break.

Sometimes all the hovering in the world doesn't make a bit of difference.

I spent the whole summer with the child - no camp, even - primarily sitting in the skating rink. It was all she wanted to do for the summer, so I didn't schedule anything else. Last summer I used to leave her at the rink and go get some exercise until the day she hit her head on the ice. (Whenever I try to overcome my hovering tendencies, bad things happen...) So I decided to stick around this summer and get my exercise by walking around the rink.

So she was ready, REALLY ready for her competition in early September. It was even possible that she would land all her jumps (something that hadn't happened in a competition yet this season). She was scheduled to skate on the second day of the competition (which coincidentally happened to be her second day of school) at 7:30 in the morning. Now it may not appear that I am not a morning person (especially to those of you who saw me at the rink every morning) but I am most definitely NOT. So it was particularly unpleasant that morning when the alarm went off at 4:30 am. We got up. We got her dressed. We put her hair into a bun and even put mascara on her eyelashes. We both managed to eat something and then we were on the road - heading for the 6:30 "practice ice".

I don't love to drive in the dark. I never expect that I will be driving in the dark in the morning. But I was. We got to the rink and our friends had signed us up for the practice ice (which had actually started a half an hour earlier than we expected) so we were very happy. When she got on the ice, it was crowded and it took awhile before she could find the spots to jump. But she was good, she was strong... When her coach arrived, I wandered off... to chat, to register, to order a video, to see where she was scheduled in the skating order. She would skate 4th in the first group (of the first event) right after her friend. That was a relief. They would cheer each other on!

After awhile the coach had her get off the ice so she didn't get too tired out. It was still before 7 am after all. But she was hot. And then she was cold. I think she was mostly just nervous but I knew she was ready.

When the time came for the competition to begin, I was trying to find blush for her cheeks. By the time I found some, she had already been called out for the 5 minute warm up. I left her with her coach and went to find a spot in the bleachers for her dad and me to sit...

The next thing I knew she was sitting on the ice, her shoulders going up and down like she was laughing. But then the sound reached me across the arena and I heard the cries. Running, I managed to dodge parents, skaters and skating bags (passing my husband on the way) and got to the ice just as her coach and someone else were carrying her off. She couldn't put any weight on it. This was not a good thing at all.

Somehow we got her out of there... we didn't leave until her friend had finished skating but I honestly didn't see any of it. She had to be carried to the car, with her skate still on (we took the other one off) to go where? I didn't know - the pediatrician? The emergency room?? Her dad followed us in the car as I drove back to the valley in the midst of morning rush hour traffic, trying in vain to get the pediatrician on the phone and listening to my baby girl cry harder than she ever had in her life.

Okay, even I can't take this play by play any more... let's just say, the ER doctor gave us hope and that helped us get through the weekend. We thought it was possibly a slight fracture, maybe just a sprain - either way it was going to heal quickly and we just had to wait and see which of her upcoming competitions she would still be able to participate in. It wasn't until the Tuesday after Labor Day, 4 days after the "fall", that we would be able to see an orthopedist and get all the bad news... fracture, growth plate, full leg cast. It was definitely "suckish", to quote my daughter.

Four to six weeks in a full leg cast. Obviously we didn't need to worry about which competitions she would get to. She wouldn't get to any. It was not a sprain. It was a break. And that was what we would now be on...

It's been interesting to live a life without so many extracurricular activities. There is no more skating, no more dancing, no more basketball... she can't even go to choir practice because she'd have to climb a flight of stairs! Piano is the only activity that has survived but just barely... if she weren't flexible enough to hold her leg out to the side while she plays, piano would have had to go on hiatus too. (If only we'd had a grand piano!) I was home in time to make dinner. Homework didn't have to be started in the car and finished long after bedtime. She was asleep at a reasonable time and even had time to watch mindless television. I played game after game of solitaire on my phone and Plants vs. Zombies on my iPad.

We are one week into this thing. And at this point I can tell you two things - that silver sharpie looks great on a purple cast and I am so tense giving her a bath, I'm afraid I need to go on anti-anxiety medication!

So it's a break. It's not the ideal way to start the school year, but I guess it's not the worst way either. It's pretty intense though - having to get to school early to find a parking place close enough so she doesn't have to maneuver her crutches through the parking lot, carrying her absurdly heavy backpack into her classroom before school begins, getting back there early enough to get a good parking spot for pick up, and getting her from her classroom so I can carry the absurdly heavy backpack back out to the car... saying hello and thanks to all the sweet classmates who have carried her stuff all day, who have given her little gifts and written get well cards, who have written on her cast with silver sharpie and run off to play at recess, grateful that they are not weighed down by a full leg cast.

So now I'm required to hover. So far I'm not exactly loving it.