August 2nd is Jill's birthday. She is sometimes squeamish about what birthday she is actually having but the catch to it is that it's an awesome, incredible signature on our friendship. With all the things that happen in life and all the people you meet along the way, I don't know how the universe works to give me my best friend when I was just two-years-old and to allow us to still be connected as much as we are after all this time.
Despite being in Target twice this weekend I failed to even grab Jill a card. If we'd grown up to live next door with pools in our back yards like we'd planned I would probably still not have a card ready to go. Hate that about me. But working on it.
I have always been a pretty good failure at the card thing. Not just for Jill... it's universal. But it didn't mean I wasn't thinking of her knowing the 2nd was rolling up soon. Jill has been too busy with children and bagel store grand openings and (Blazing Bagels in Waterford, MI!), summer and electronics problems to hardly even chat with me let alone, email, facebook or blog post or remember it's her birthday... but I remember... LOTS.
Thirty-three word and phrase associations with Jill:
1. Watermelon Hubba Bubba Gum
2. The book How to Eat Fried Worms (I read it in the back of her parents car on a road trip)
3. My Child Dolls
4. Catherine. Jill named every doll some variation of Catherine for a good long while.
5. Nasty Words. Jill was the kid that told me most of the dirty words I ever learned. That's right. The only child kid taught the middle child between two brother's all the dirty words she ever learned.
6. Driveway rollerskating
7. Dogs named Muffy
8. Curled pigtails
9. Worms- she had a worm obsession. She'll deny it. But it's true.
10. Lasagna- Jill's mom has the best. And the first I ever ate.
11. Playing monster. Don't ask.
12. Pretty in Pink Barbie
13. Twirly Curl's Barbie
14. Fake Care Bears
15. Fake Cabbage Patch Barbie
16. Trying to see our first movie... going in too early... realizing it's a rated R movie that we just sat ourselves in... and bolting from the theatre back into Oakland mall because we didn't know what else to do.
17. Bunkbeds at Girl Scout camp
18. Leaving me at Girl Scout camp
19. Bunkbeds at band camp
20. Band camp
21. Mr. Kantz's Third Grade Class
22. Picker bushes
23. Blue shag carpet
24. Hershey candy products
25. A white skirt with magent polka dots that she wore in 7th grade
26. Kleenex. I've never seen another human require so much Kleenex.
27. Snoopy Band-aids
28. Flip flops- namely the glitter encrusted ones that Noah slept with for weeks.
29. The pink, blue and yellow plaid blankey with the satin edging
30. Fisher Price toy sinks (I loved that thing!)
31. An endless giggle that has been the same forever
32. Anklet socks with white lace ruffles
33. Best friend- in every sense.
For the 31st time in our lives, Happy Birthday Jill.
With much love,
Sheryl
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Too Far Away
I wondered if Jill was dead because there had been zero communication via facebook, email, phone or blog for WEEKS. Ok not weeks. But maybe a span of days which is kind of unusual. However I wasn't dead and I also had gone electronically silent so I figured I should give her a call.
I called her when I was running a little bit early to a meeting that required a 20 minute walk (I had given myself 35 minutes on the assumption/guarantee that I would get turned around and lost). I was worried though and the time zone thing hoses up most chances of catching Jill in the evening. But I got her voicemail.
As much as I struggle to find my way around work... and I've been there three years... Jill... oh my. OH MY. The woman has lived in Oakland County her entire life but please don't let her leave home without her GPS.
You may be wondering if I'm lost at work, then how can I even make a peep about Jill. My direction skills stink- I'm the first to admit it. However, I also work in the largest building in the world. I'm not kidding. Look it up.
But residents of Michigan come with the pre-made hand map. Residents of most suburban Detroit locations come with the benefit of mile roads (8 Mile really is a road, not just a movie...). If you hit 11 Mile and you meant to get off at 10, you know you need to turn around. And most neighborhoods are even lined up in neat little rows- no crazy meandering dead end cul de sacs.
Jill and Sheryl combined trying to find anything is hopeless. We somehow feed each others directional impairment.
To this day Jill's mother will never forget overhearing Jill tell me on the phone that she will meet me at the corner of Pearson and Leroy. These were streets in the neighborhood we'd grown up in. Parallel streets.
It's a good thing Jill's mother wasn't privvy to our email-followed-by-frantic-phone-call episode a few weeks ago. I'm coming to Michigan this summer and Jill and I have been talking about this trip for MONTHS. Apparently Jill has also been planning to go on vacation for MONTHS. The same week. As we swapped a few emails and finally realized the conflict- me banging my head on my desk and Jill on her child, dog, or whatever comfort from home was nearby, I finally thought to ASK her where she was going on vacation.
Holland. Holland, Michigan. HOLLAND, MICHIGAN. Which is directly enroute to one of my six stops in 9 days during my Michigan vacation which I must have told Jill about at least 17 times in the 6 months I'd been planning this mess. I'm also pretty sure Jill was under the impression Holland was somewhere near the U.P. or Kansas or whatever. But it's on the way. I get to see Jill. And her giant, perpetually growing children. If I had to find the corner of parallel streets or make a detour to China to see her, I would.
I miss that it used to be as easy as looking out my bedroom window and seeing if Jill's mother's car was in their driveway to know if Jill could come out and play. Even the span of two connected back yards was once painfully too far away. Can you imagine what 2300 miles feels like?
-Sheryl
I called her when I was running a little bit early to a meeting that required a 20 minute walk (I had given myself 35 minutes on the assumption/guarantee that I would get turned around and lost). I was worried though and the time zone thing hoses up most chances of catching Jill in the evening. But I got her voicemail.
As much as I struggle to find my way around work... and I've been there three years... Jill... oh my. OH MY. The woman has lived in Oakland County her entire life but please don't let her leave home without her GPS.
You may be wondering if I'm lost at work, then how can I even make a peep about Jill. My direction skills stink- I'm the first to admit it. However, I also work in the largest building in the world. I'm not kidding. Look it up.
But residents of Michigan come with the pre-made hand map. Residents of most suburban Detroit locations come with the benefit of mile roads (8 Mile really is a road, not just a movie...). If you hit 11 Mile and you meant to get off at 10, you know you need to turn around. And most neighborhoods are even lined up in neat little rows- no crazy meandering dead end cul de sacs.
Jill and Sheryl combined trying to find anything is hopeless. We somehow feed each others directional impairment.
To this day Jill's mother will never forget overhearing Jill tell me on the phone that she will meet me at the corner of Pearson and Leroy. These were streets in the neighborhood we'd grown up in. Parallel streets.
It's a good thing Jill's mother wasn't privvy to our email-followed-by-frantic-phone-call episode a few weeks ago. I'm coming to Michigan this summer and Jill and I have been talking about this trip for MONTHS. Apparently Jill has also been planning to go on vacation for MONTHS. The same week. As we swapped a few emails and finally realized the conflict- me banging my head on my desk and Jill on her child, dog, or whatever comfort from home was nearby, I finally thought to ASK her where she was going on vacation.
Holland. Holland, Michigan. HOLLAND, MICHIGAN. Which is directly enroute to one of my six stops in 9 days during my Michigan vacation which I must have told Jill about at least 17 times in the 6 months I'd been planning this mess. I'm also pretty sure Jill was under the impression Holland was somewhere near the U.P. or Kansas or whatever. But it's on the way. I get to see Jill. And her giant, perpetually growing children. If I had to find the corner of parallel streets or make a detour to China to see her, I would.
I miss that it used to be as easy as looking out my bedroom window and seeing if Jill's mother's car was in their driveway to know if Jill could come out and play. Even the span of two connected back yards was once painfully too far away. Can you imagine what 2300 miles feels like?
-Sheryl
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
6:15a.m.
My phone rang at 6:15 a.m. this morning. You know how you sometimes have the pit of your stomach just swirl around when the phone rings at an off time because it MUST be something bad?
Not me.
Because I knew it was Jill. She called mat 4:45 on my birthday.
Jill was half calling to check on me and half calling to relay how entirely idiotic her day was going and it wasn't even completely daylight in all time zones of the continental U.S. .
She made me late getting out the door but it was totally worth it!
But her day taught me:
1. All grown women over the age of 15 should know how to pump gas without the dude calling to you over the loud speaker.
2. When pregnant women whack into your mom van with their own vehicles, forgive them quickly.
3. Keep money in your car for when it starts beeping relentlessly because you are running it out of fuel.
4. Be aware of the lockdown policies at your child's middle school to ensure you know the proper procedures for when you stroll in to pick your kid up and there are armed official looking people surrounding the place.
5. Call your best pal at any time of day. That's what they are there for.
Missing ya Jill.
-Sheryl
Not me.
Because I knew it was Jill. She called mat 4:45 on my birthday.
Jill was half calling to check on me and half calling to relay how entirely idiotic her day was going and it wasn't even completely daylight in all time zones of the continental U.S. .
She made me late getting out the door but it was totally worth it!
But her day taught me:
1. All grown women over the age of 15 should know how to pump gas without the dude calling to you over the loud speaker.
2. When pregnant women whack into your mom van with their own vehicles, forgive them quickly.
3. Keep money in your car for when it starts beeping relentlessly because you are running it out of fuel.
4. Be aware of the lockdown policies at your child's middle school to ensure you know the proper procedures for when you stroll in to pick your kid up and there are armed official looking people surrounding the place.
5. Call your best pal at any time of day. That's what they are there for.
Missing ya Jill.
-Sheryl
Saturday, May 8, 2010
My Mama
Jill worked with my mom at Meijers and I worked for hers at the Ferndale library when we were teenagers. There was an interesting dynamic. We weren't even the closest of friends by this point. And for that matter, my mom and I had probably stopped really talking like humans long before the blisters of teen angst. We wouldn't really start talking again until my 20's.
And to top it off... my mother would much rather have had Jill for a daughter around that time than me. I mean she loved me because I was her kid, but if she was about to be struck down for not telling the truth, she would have had to fess up that she wanted Jill. The kid she was still taller than. The kid that was kind and chatty with her. That's the one my mom wanted. I don't blame her- I wouldn't have wanted me back then either.
My mom and I have not had a classic 'sisterly' relationship or even a love/hate relationship. I don't even call her mom much- I call her Nana like my children. I have needed her when I didn't want her. She cleaned the vomit up when I barfed over geometry exams and hovered over me when I drove myself into stress induced mono as a senior in high school. She sent me $20 and "here you go" notes written on the back of receipts from the grocery store when I was a freshman in college. It was really hard to say I Love You then. We just didn't.
She went to college after 50. COLLEGE. This woman who feared even pronouncing my elementary school spelling lists (because I was DARN sure to correct her) decided she was going to go to college and she graduated. She made me cry when she walked in her cap and gown that day. Nobody makes me cry like that.
When I lived nearby in Michigan she showed up during every pinch I had and holy crap there was a lot. She inadvertently provided the comic relief that I needed for my life to roll on. Like getting her first cell phone under the premise that it was for emergencies only. She called me out of a client meeting because chicken was on sale at Meijers and did I want her to bring me any. She blows through brakes on her car every other year but she drove my sorry self around when my driving privileges were revoked multiple times for health problems.
She puts up with my sarcasm and my exasperation with her 'Nana-ness'. She spoiled her oldest grandson with Thomas trains and introducing him to the term bull shit. But she stood by graciously with the complications of Noah's premature birth and persistent health problems that made him scream when most people so much as looked at his tiny blond headed self. Yes looked at him. She was well versed in what it was like to want to pick up and hug the cutest thing on the planet but to have that little thing want nothing to do with you.
She has needed me way more than mom's want to need their children. She doesn't hate me for it.
I have needed her when I want no one and she knows it. She steps in quietly and steps back out when I've brushed myself off.
Happy Mother's Day Mom.
Love,
Sheryl
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Snoopy Band-Aids
First off... a writer is what I WANT to be... a mama? Yes I am. A senior supply chain analyst (it's a long winded code for being good at something that might be considered kind of boring- God has a funny way of messing with people!)? But yes I am. A writer? Yeah no. Not yet. I still dream for the dream that made nerdy wizards and vampires really awesome.
Jill might have sliced my finger a tad with child-proof-safety-scissors, but she did promise me a coveted Snoopy Band-Aid. And I made it home without her mother knowing. But either the all too guilty Jill fessed up or else her mother noticed our slack clean up job in the bathroom. Either way, Jill and her mother were at the door of my house pronto.
I don't know what you are feeling so guilty about though... I was the champ who got the brush snagged into your hair while playing beauty shop in the garage, I participated in the incident that blazed a hole through the finish on your desk with nail polish remover and I was standing at the top of the concrete front porch stairs while you were definitely at the bottom hollering. Tangled in your child-size lawn chair.
I suppose there was a good amount of mutual pain inflicted. We made it though.
I was your sucky maid of honor too don't forget- and you didn't suck- you warned me you were pregnant and phobic of people. I showed up at your wedding which was only the second wedding I had ever attended- and the last one had been when I was 11.
I'm sitting here typing this with Noah laying next to me in my bed. Wearing his Roo Halloween costume from 2006. And watching Pooh and the Heffalump. It's a happy place to be.
-Sheryl
Jill might have sliced my finger a tad with child-proof-safety-scissors, but she did promise me a coveted Snoopy Band-Aid. And I made it home without her mother knowing. But either the all too guilty Jill fessed up or else her mother noticed our slack clean up job in the bathroom. Either way, Jill and her mother were at the door of my house pronto.
I don't know what you are feeling so guilty about though... I was the champ who got the brush snagged into your hair while playing beauty shop in the garage, I participated in the incident that blazed a hole through the finish on your desk with nail polish remover and I was standing at the top of the concrete front porch stairs while you were definitely at the bottom hollering. Tangled in your child-size lawn chair.
I suppose there was a good amount of mutual pain inflicted. We made it though.
I was your sucky maid of honor too don't forget- and you didn't suck- you warned me you were pregnant and phobic of people. I showed up at your wedding which was only the second wedding I had ever attended- and the last one had been when I was 11.
I'm sitting here typing this with Noah laying next to me in my bed. Wearing his Roo Halloween costume from 2006. And watching Pooh and the Heffalump. It's a happy place to be.
-Sheryl
Dodge Rock
Ok, so just like Sheryl, I'm trying to get this out with a small window of time. My 9 month old is entertaining herself in her "office", which is really just a corner of our living room crammed with her toys. I expect at any second for her to slam her hand in her play laptop and start screaming because she does this about 19 time a day. Also, I'm not even sure if I'm going to be any good at this blogging thing. At least, not as good as Sheryl. For Christ sake, shes a writer. I'm just a glorified ass wiper. But, I'll give it a whirl.
I guess this blog is going to be about us, our friendship and such. So, I guess i will start off by giving you a small history of our friendship. Sheryl and I have been friends for approximately 32 years. This is something that is not easy for me to admit, since I mostly tell people that I'm 26 when they ask my age. Frankly, 32 years later, I'm a tad shocked that Sheryl is still my friend. I mean, looking back now, I don't think I was always the best choice for a friend.
For example, there was the time one summer that I made up a game called "Dodge Rock". This entailed one person to sit is our wading pool and the other to stand outside of it and throw rocks at the person in the pool. The idea was for the person in the pool to swim back and forth and try to avoid getting pummeled by jagged, pointy rocks. I, of course got to be the rock thrower and Sheryl held the position of the dodger. Come on, who wouldn't want to play that game???
There was also the time I nearly amputated her finger with a pair of kiddie scissors. While she was bleeding profusely and crying, I was covering her mouth with my hand to muffle her cries so as not to alert any parental figures. It was of course purely accidental, not planned out like Dodge Rock. I'm not a complete psychopath.
After being such a great childhood friend to Sheryl, she asked me to be her maid of honor. I totally sucked at it (sorry again, Sheryl). In my defense, I was like 50 months preggers with my second kid and totally broke. Also, I was only 23 and didn't really get how the world of weddings worked. Like, planning a shower, bachelorette party....or at least helping the bride get ready on the big day. Nope, didn't do any of these. I rock!!!
Over the years we have grown apart and found our way back to each other a zillion times. I am lucky that there were enough good times in our friendship to overshadow Dodge Rock and the like, so she would still want to be my friend. You all know you want to be BFF's with me too. Come on, it'll only cost you a game of Dodge Rock. And maybe a pinkie toe.
~Jill
I guess this blog is going to be about us, our friendship and such. So, I guess i will start off by giving you a small history of our friendship. Sheryl and I have been friends for approximately 32 years. This is something that is not easy for me to admit, since I mostly tell people that I'm 26 when they ask my age. Frankly, 32 years later, I'm a tad shocked that Sheryl is still my friend. I mean, looking back now, I don't think I was always the best choice for a friend.
For example, there was the time one summer that I made up a game called "Dodge Rock". This entailed one person to sit is our wading pool and the other to stand outside of it and throw rocks at the person in the pool. The idea was for the person in the pool to swim back and forth and try to avoid getting pummeled by jagged, pointy rocks. I, of course got to be the rock thrower and Sheryl held the position of the dodger. Come on, who wouldn't want to play that game???
There was also the time I nearly amputated her finger with a pair of kiddie scissors. While she was bleeding profusely and crying, I was covering her mouth with my hand to muffle her cries so as not to alert any parental figures. It was of course purely accidental, not planned out like Dodge Rock. I'm not a complete psychopath.
After being such a great childhood friend to Sheryl, she asked me to be her maid of honor. I totally sucked at it (sorry again, Sheryl). In my defense, I was like 50 months preggers with my second kid and totally broke. Also, I was only 23 and didn't really get how the world of weddings worked. Like, planning a shower, bachelorette party....or at least helping the bride get ready on the big day. Nope, didn't do any of these. I rock!!!
Over the years we have grown apart and found our way back to each other a zillion times. I am lucky that there were enough good times in our friendship to overshadow Dodge Rock and the like, so she would still want to be my friend. You all know you want to be BFF's with me too. Come on, it'll only cost you a game of Dodge Rock. And maybe a pinkie toe.
~Jill
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I Have 5 Minutes Before Dinner
I have 5 minutes before dinner to get this out. My pal Jill and I have had a friendship that has lasted over 30 years. This friendship endurance can happen for many people- except most people don't start their friendships when they are hardly 2.
One of the main things we have in common is that we've known each other forever- sort of like how you have family members that you love and care about and want to spend time with but if it wasn't for sharing some DNA it would have been hard for your paths to cross. Jill and I are that way.
Something that is similar for us is that we didn't grow up having a sister- Jill was an only child and I had two brothers and now I even have a step-sister and there are sister-in-laws and moms that stopped being moms and are friends. But Jill and I have hung on to us.
There is 2300 miles separating us, 5 kids between us and only 24 hours in a day. But we talk, email and now will blog about the laughable, happy and of course heinous parts of being mamas, daughters, wives, former wives, employees, grunts that do the laundry and heroes that find whatever got lost. We are human and love the funny parts about it!
My five minutes has been shot to hell and has also been compromised by breaking up a fight over blocks and fixing the DVD remote.
Cheers to the first of many posts from Jill or Sheryl.
-Sheryl
One of the main things we have in common is that we've known each other forever- sort of like how you have family members that you love and care about and want to spend time with but if it wasn't for sharing some DNA it would have been hard for your paths to cross. Jill and I are that way.
Something that is similar for us is that we didn't grow up having a sister- Jill was an only child and I had two brothers and now I even have a step-sister and there are sister-in-laws and moms that stopped being moms and are friends. But Jill and I have hung on to us.
There is 2300 miles separating us, 5 kids between us and only 24 hours in a day. But we talk, email and now will blog about the laughable, happy and of course heinous parts of being mamas, daughters, wives, former wives, employees, grunts that do the laundry and heroes that find whatever got lost. We are human and love the funny parts about it!
My five minutes has been shot to hell and has also been compromised by breaking up a fight over blocks and fixing the DVD remote.
Cheers to the first of many posts from Jill or Sheryl.
-Sheryl
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