Weekend Coffee Share #40 – Ohio Winter

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If we were having coffee, it would be because you got on a plane and flew here from another place. I have not really made friends out here, and that’s kind of sad. I met with a mom and her son earlier this week, one I have talked to before, and it was nice. I’ve also started going to an open playtime at the local community center, just to let Wee One run off some steam in this dead of winter (more on that later) and climb and play on things we don’t have at Casa In-Laws.

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Pregnancy Pack

This is a verbatim chat between me and several of my girlfriends from last summer. All four of us have kids between 20 and 22 months. We are talking about the prospect of a second child, as we had just learned “J” was pregnant.
L: “You guys, I bought a dresser last weekend. “Good for you,” you’re thinking? A dresser for our pink room. The pink room that will be our next baby’s room (which we will paint if we have another boy.). That means I’m finally ok with the notion of having another kid. Crazy!! You guys’ baby dust business rubbed off on me. 🖕😜

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Weekend Coffee Share #35

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If we were having coffee, we would share a long hug, as it has been a long time. It’s a new shop we’re in, a new town. I have been to this shop before, outside of Columbus, and the chai is truly superb. I came here just recently, the first mom date I had with people since moving. This one went alright, but there will be more. It takes time to connect with people and find my group. I miss my friends in Seattle, and we toast to their health: Courtney, Lydia, Jenny, Midori, Beckie, Jessica, others and all the littles.

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Someone I Used To Be

“I never had any friends later on like the ones I had when I was twelve. Jesus, does anyone?” Stephen King

This quote becomes especially poignant on this, the day of my 20th high school reunion. I’m not there, obviously, but I wish I was.  Every time I’m with someone from high school (except for My husband Cohiba (Have I told you we met in high school?)) I remember someone I used to be.

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