Once you enter your 30s it is inevitable that friends will start to settle down. When a slew of wedding invitations and birth announcements found their way into my mailbox I accepted the change with as much grace as I could muster. I figured that while these poor schmucks were yoyo dieting to fit into wedding dresses and becoming sleepless zombies thanks to their newborns, I could continue to bask in the freedom of single life without a husband or child to weigh me down. But then I moved back to the States and witnessed first hand the impact of nesting on once single friends. These friends, once beholden to no one but themselves, were putting spouse and child’s needs ahead of their own… and it scared the crap out of me.
The reality hit me hardest when a good friend announced she was pregnant last summer. I was on my way to becoming the last single girl. What did I have in common with these women anymore? I would rather scratch my eyes out than talk about breast feeding and sleep schedules. But as I watched this friend contend with pregnancy with her usual sarcasm and horror I realized that a child could never break the bond of crazy, we would always have irrational fears, awe inspiring stories, or just plain bizarre life moments.
With that said I’m happy to announce that said friend delivered her baby (aka Thor) at 5:46 this morning. If I was a better friend I’d know how much it weighed and stuff but I’m just happy knowing that he is a healthy baby boy. With the birth of Thor I’ve decided it’s no longer appropriate to continue referring to his dad as”Studmuffin”. I gave him a variety of mildly inappropriate new nicknames to choose from but rather than allow him to weigh in on the matter I’ve decided that my favorite is an amalgamation of his former nickname and his new role as proud pop. So “Studmuffin” I hereby rename you “MuffinPop”. Congratulations!