Monday, August 9, 2010

Dear Kate and Lydia: Opposites Attract

Dear Kate & Lydia,

I really want to find my own Kate. I'm a total Lydia. From the clogs to the stains on my shirts and sweat pants. I may look a mess, but I'm a great person. And, to be honest, while I would have thought that I would never want some narcissistic, Jimmy Choo-wearing beyotch to be anywhere near me, much less be my BFF, you gals have changed my mind. Even though I sometimes think either Kate is imaginary, or that Lydia is a candidate for sainthood.

So, how did you do it? Seriously. I need this kind of friendship.

She's made up, isn't she? Crap.

Lydia Too
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Dear Lydia Too,

First, Lydia wants to thank you. For two reasons.  Folks have been asking us how we met and became friends and this is a good way to talk about it.  And also because every once in a while, Kate needs to be dropped a few pegs and Lydia loves it when she gets a reason to point in Kate's face and say BOOYAH for ten minutes and does the pointy dance (points her fingers and shakes her moneymaker).

The second thing we need to point out is that, shocking as it may be, Kate. is. real. [Editor's Note: Sometimes too real. Like when she calls me 87 times in one day. -Lydia]

To be totally honest, sometimes we wonder how we became such good friends. As we've written, we weren't close until we started writing this blog. (Actually this letter will make a lot more sense if you go back and read that link.)

Lydia says it's like we got pregnant on the first date and now we have this baby we're trying to raise together. Which is like the creepiest analogy ever, especially when she says it to other people. Like the minister. That was a comfortable conversation. (Editor's Note: I'm awkward. - Lydia)

We think that finding a Lydia is easier than finding a Kate. First of all, just going by what we see when dropping off and picking up the kiddos, there are a lot more moms in yoga pants and clogs then there are in Jimmy Choos and Dior skirts.  And let's be honest, Kates are not always easily approachable.  They come off kind of bitchy. All wrapped up in that snobby paper with the superiority bow on top. And Lydias are super easy, like human Golden Retrievers. Friendly, always willing to chat with strangers (usually because they need extra volunteers for Girl Scouts). 

And Kates are not always nice the first time you to talk to them.  Wanting to find a Kate is like wanting to get a Brazilian wax. Worth it in the end, but are you sure you want to go through all that? [Editor's Note: You just compared me to getting your hoohah stripped. That's nice. -Kate] [Yes, and you compared me to a DOG.  But they are both apt comparisons and that's why we're awesome. - Lydia]

Here's what we've learned:

The Lydias of the world make it OK for the Kates to be a little messy or break down when they're having a crappy mom day or know that if you show up at their house unshowered and possibly with their teeth not brushed, it's still OK and they'll make you an awesome omelet with sauteed mushrooms and fresh tomatoes.  The Lydias are their anchors, bringing them back down to mom-reality and reminding them that no one really likes Perfect Mommy anyway, so just be yourself. 

And the Kates of the world help the Lydias to find the person who will stripe their hair or actually get it cut more than once a year, to bring Starbucks Selfy Steam when they're feeling PMS'y because they just know, who buys a mommy-proof coffee cup that makes it almost impossible to spill any on your boobs and will drop everything when you need her because she thinks you're amazing.  Kates are their helium balloons, lifting the Lydias up from their diaper-clogged mom-reality to remind them that there's more to life than carpool.

We bet you've already sorta picked out your Kate. She's probably at your kid's school, or maybe at church or soccer. Wanna know a secret? She's not all those super snitchy things you think she is. She's just...Kate-ish. One of these days, someone is going to say or do something supawk and funny, and you both will either laugh, or try not to laugh, or Maude face, and you'll totally catch each other doing it. And then, it's like hearing "DreamWeaver" and watching everything happen in slow motion.



Then you say, "I haven't had enough coffee for all this..." and suddenly you're at Starbucks giggling about Dina Lohan.

Or, if that doesn't work, hit her with your car. Then you can bring her enchiladas. Because nothing strengthens the bonds of friendship like ooey, gooey cheesy goodness.

Except maybe a Brazilian wax.

xoxo K&L

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