Here's What Happens When Your Best Friend has a Baby

(This post is brought to you by my best friend Melody.)

Katelyn and I met 27 years ago when our mothers had the audacity to drop us off at the church nursery. Although I don’t remember the particulars of that day (I imagine we bonded over a deep disgust for our captors/caretakers and the other toddlers), I know for certain that we’ve been attached-at-the-hip ever since. 

Over the decades, we’ve grown up to be very different people. This blog, for example, is a telling indicator of just how different we are. Unlike Katelyn, I’m not overly concerned with healthy living. I survive off of peanuts and protein bars, drink so much diet soda that I probably bleed aspartame, and fall asleep with my non-organic make-up on 80% of the time. I’m a living testament to the human body’s resilience, and consider my day a healthy one as long as I’m still breathing at the end of it. These differences, though, don’t seem to matter much. Katelyn may shake her head at my plastic-wrapped diet and scoff at the empty 5 Hour Energy bottles rolling around my car’s floorboard, yet she always stocks her house with diet Pepsi when I visit; I may roll my eyes when she pulls a mason jar of properly filtered water out of her purse and drinks it at a restaurant (seriously, and on more than one occasion), but I would sooner set my house on fire than let fumes from aerosol hairspray get within a 30-yard radius of Ryn’s pristine baby lungs. Our friendship may not make sense, but, thankfully, it doesn’t have to. 

My Ryn’s Roost post was supposed to be about handling the inevitable changes that happen when your best friend has a baby. However, I quickly realized this was a stupid topic, because it could be addressed in roughly 3 words: deal with it. No, you can no longer go out and drink 17 margaritas on a random Tuesday night; yes, spontaneous, out-of-state day trips (to go drink 17 margaritas in a new setting) are out of the question; sure, shopping with a breastfeeding infant has its challenges. But these are trifling, inconsequential issues. If you find yourself wringing your hands over the small ways post-baby friendship is different, then you need to get over it and start being a better best friend. 
Besides, for me, getting to know Ryn outweighs all the margaritas in Memphis. I knew from the moment Katelyn answered the phone with, "I'm effing pregnant," that I'd love Ryn, simply because I've always loved her mama, but I didn't realize (and this may sound dumb) what an actual person this new baby would be. At only 8-months-old, Ryn’s already much more than just my best friend’s kid: she’s a spit-fire of a girl, who taunts the dog with celery sticks, hates avocado almost as much as I do, laughs hysterically when someone sneezes or coughs, and thinks sleeping is the devil's business. She is a tiny force of nature, the Queen baby of our little world, and we’re lucky to have her. 
Like all other aspects of living, friendships have seasons that ask us to change and adapt. Katelyn and I have moved through many such seasons, sometimes with grace, sometimes with the poise of a corpse. Either way, though, we’ve always kept our footing.  

So far, Ryn season has been a sweet one.   

1 comment:

  1. These are tips that most of the times close friends need to get along with their newly parented friends. I think this post might come in handy for every youngster sometime.