Sister Wives

I was a little light with the posting last week as one of my best friends, of annual Boston trip fame, B, braved the six hour drive from the wilds of New Hampshire, with her two children under the age of eight in tow, and came to spend a few days in suburban New Jersey.

It was bit of a Country Mouse/City Mousse scenario. I started B out slowly, taking her and the kids to the park and town pool the first day, before dragging them along on a Mean Mommy summer field trip to The Land of Make Believe, a local amusement park. B is a powerhouse of a woman, she works from home, is raising two well-behaved children, as well as maintaining a huge vegetable garden, canning her own produce and making her own maple syrup, both of which she brought as gifts. She has kindly ignored the fact that I give my children Aunt Jemima, but now after this visit, I have discovered the grade of syrup she makes and has gotten my children hooked on is the most expensive. And did I mention she keeps chickens? CHICKENS! I knew this trip would be a bit of a culture shock to her and the kids, and I had already tested the limits, giving B's children ice cream twice in one day and keeping her little one up past seven o'clock the night before, but I hoped our trip to LOMB wouldn't be pushing it too far. B handled it like a trooper though, even when the tidal pool became epically overcrowded on such a beautiful August Friday. I even discovered, on a trip to the bathroom, that the ramp to the lazy river had become dappled with shit-covered footprints after some toddler let a nugget slip out of his/her diaper. I neglected to tell her fearing she would immediately run for the exit.

Despite the fact that my friend wanted to kill me, or rather because I know she stifled the impulse, I love her even more. We had a great time managing the tasks of motherhood together, and during her visit it became even clearer to me how much we all should really be living with female relatives or friends. I have written about it before, but I had never been in a long-term situation, where another mother and myself were caring for our children together alone (or practically, so late does H work). I not only had the benefit of female companionship, but an extra set of hands to lighten the load. Scratch that, not just lighten the load, but see when the load was getting too heavy and know what part to take. I was cooking dinner and B was setting the table, I was loading the dishwasher and she was putting away the leftovers. Packing for LOMB in the morning, I was not struck with one of my tension headaches, trying to pack lunches and the bag of towels and assorted crap. B did the food while I packed the bags. Its' even better when you feed your children similarly, or one of you feeds her kids even healthier than you do - that being B, whose kids don't even drink juice - so you don't have to worry about anyone packing Ho-Ho's as morning snack like a certain husband would do. And don't even get me started on running errands. Realizing I was out of the lemons I needed for dinner, I ran to the corner market after feeding the kids lunch, and, in addition to not having to turn a ten minute job into a thirty minute one, I returned to a clean kitchen and happily playing children. We started calling each other "Sister Wives" ala the TLC show - minus the Sammy Hagar knock-off husband.

There were tears upon B's departure, my kids crying already missing their friends, and her kids crying from lack of sleep, too much artificial coloring, and too many Disney movies. I cried not only because it wouldn't be until November that I would see my bestie again, but because of all the work I now would have to do alone, and with no funny conversation to make it more enjoyable. I know the extended family scenario is tough, and we all enjoy our privacy - I think T is enjoying his ability to fart freely once again -but I still wonder if I would be a better mother if I always had back-up. Motherhood is like a war and no one should be in the trenches alone.