a girl needs a bestie

We arrived home from a freezing excursion yesterday to find a little package sitting at the front door. I quickly ran to see what it was, in case it was an online purchase I a) had forgotten I made, and b) needed to quickly hide. Nothing quite so sinister. A lovely thought from my best mate. A hug and a cuppa sent in the mail. A note and a book she has finished reading, which she needed me to read immediately.



I have only read a couple of pages, but Kerri Sackville's When My Husband Does the Dishes has me pmsl. Quite literally, my pelvic floor is still recovering from labour. So is she. She told me to just ignore any breast milk dribbles throughout the book. See, this friend intuitively knows when I need a bit of a boost. That only a friend can give.



We met years ago, when we were at the beginning of our teaching careers. We taught classes side-by-side and it wasn't long before we were (sickeningly) known as snugglepot and cuddlepie. We would hang out in the staffroom having a cuppa and chat in the afternoons at our cars. All pre-children of course. Nowadays our cuppa-chats are limited to TitSkype. Not an adults-only chat, but quickly talking while breastfeeding our babies. It's comforting to see her lounge room in the background. She hid out in the hospital one night after I had the big boy listening to the birth story over and over well after visiting hours. We have promised each other we will be spinster wives in our old age, when our children have grown up and left and our husbands are retired and playing golf.
weird things that friends do #42: accidental outfit syncing.


So thank you, my dear friend. Maybe we can catch up on skype later today. I'll be the one in pyjamas with unwashed hair and an infant latched to my bosom.