somebody's mom

"Hi, this is Julie. I mean, Willow's mother."

I kind of feel like I should get credit for not just hanging up the phone. Don't get me wrong: I know that in certain circles I'm "Madison's mom," and I'm glad to be, proud to be, even, and given my admitted thing with names, it's nice to have a fall-back position. But to self-correct away from one's own, actual grown-up name? Give me a break. Oh, well. I know who you are, Julie, but it's not like we'd ever be pals.

For one thing, she's a Girl Scout leader, and I'm sure my reputation there is of big time slacker, one who drops off and scoots instead of hovers, but aren't scouts all about independence and accomplishment? I mean, 90 minutes is 90 minutes. And it's probably good for the girl, too.


Now that the girl is ten, I'm deep into these mom years, living our lives in concentric circles. Oh, I'm still me, and that's probably maintained more easily given that she's an only, but I make no apologies, despite the sideways glances of all the professional mothers out there. I'm still a mom. And I still have a few mom-friends, women I only know because our girls know each other. Life's just better when I like some of the people that my child compels me to spend so much time with, and it's good to have someone to easily doublecheck all the endless minutia .

This year I scanned her new class list as eagerly as the actual fifth-grader did, and, lucky for us, we both found what we were looking for in another mother-daughter pair. Oh, the daughter's name is not the first that my own child volunteers when asked to identify her best friend, but it's probably a close second, and we're working on it. They get along great, and so do her mom and I, though she's at home with four and I work with one. Compared to my non-mom friends, I don't yet know her particularly well, but we have the sense that we agree on what matters, and we laugh when we sit at softball or school.

The fact that, inspired by our family room decor, she just recited the 1980-81 Blues roster, complete with numbers, when she picked up her daughter just endeared her to me forever, but, she's also not nuts or unpredictable or a bigot like the current best friend's mom. Always a plus. And when we pick up the phone or send an e-mail to make plans or bum a ride to girl scouts or to see if the other can take one adorable and intelligent yet crazy-making child, we call ourselves by our names. I'm not sure if I should tell my daughter than she and Maddie will be friends for the next seven or eight years, or just let her figure it out for herself, but that is certainly my intention.