And that's my bestie, my bestie, my best friend, go best friend.

May 1, 2017

I love my besties- like at an unhealthy level at times. As I have gotten older I have been trying to keep our relationships in tact, but I am failing.


I live around the corner from two of my closest friends, yet I may go months without seeing them. It’s not because I don’t want to, but between 25 kids (I have three, but some days I feel like I have twenty-five. A post for another day.), working full-time, wife-ing (It’s MY WORD, so don’t correct it.), and trying to have outside interests, I NEVER see them. Like never. And when I do the conversation tends to sound like a broken record. We promise to see each other more often, yet we find another season has passed before we are in each other’s presence again. 


I hate that. Like absolutely hate it because they are my therapy. Free yet, the best I have ever had because they understand things I don’t understand about myself. They sing the song that’s in my heart when I forget the words. (I told you I love them at an unhealthy level at times.)


So as I approach my 40th year of life next year, I promised myself to shove my way into their lives and I hope they do the same in mine. I promised to show up when they least expect it. I promised to make time even if it’s over a lukewarm Cinnamon Almondmilk  Macchiato. I promise to plan a girls trip every two years in hopes it gets more frequent. I promise. I promise.


Now let me go put some time on my calendar to remind myself to go be friendly.  Onwards.



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by Brinn From Burbank