So I had a conversation with my best friend, who happens to be from Serbia. She moved her when she was 13, but still sees differences in Americans vs. Europeans.

We were talking about the people we’ve met who will say “We’ll have to get together, ” and then make no effort to do so. Who always say things are perfect even when they’re not.

She says it’s an American thing. I say it’s a woman thing. But I’m not like that, and neither is she. We’re both very direct, and quick to say that things suck (parenting, perhaps) and quick to invite you to our homes. On a specific day. Not in general.

So what gives? She says American women are afraid of showing that underneath the facade of a clean house, things aren’t as perfect as they appear. I say women are afraid of getting close to others for fear of rejection.

Is it an American thing? A female thing? What do you say?

I’ve been super glad I live near my mom lately.

I’ve been sick. NOt dying or anything, just a whiny baby cold, but enough to put me in bed for 3 days.

I was deliberating about what to do if I keeled over going to pick up Max from school when I realized my mom could get him. YES!

Since then she’s hung out with Max so I could rest and brought me get-well-soon foods (read: McDonald’s Angus burgers and nachos. Feed a cold, people. Feed. a. Cold.). I’m so grateful to have her nearby.

For you folks that have always lived near your parents, consider yourself lucky. I moved away at the tender age of 18 and haven’t lived in the same city since. I’ve gotten used to fending for myself, sucking up my illness to take care of my child and withering away if there’s nothing to eat in the house. But with Mom just 5 minutes away, it’s made my life as a pseudo-single mom a lot easier.

So thanks for that Mom. And by the way, could you come over with sushi? I’m getting hungry…

I’ve been talking with my mom a lot lately, about my crumbling marriage and about life. She’s been stressed because of my problems, and I finally “got” it the other day.

She asked me how I’d feel if Max were in ICU. Naturally, I’d be a wreck. I would feel his pain and want nothing more than for him to get better–wait a minute! This is an analogy for how she feels about me! OHHHH!

And then I didn’t feel so resentful for her suffering right along with me. I realized it shows how much she cares about me. I guess you think when you become a grown up your parents can’t worry about you in the same way they did when your biggest crisis was a scraped knee. But they can, and they do. Most of us don’t need them in the way I’ve needed her these last few months, but it’s so nice to know that she’s my #1 supporter as I figure out what’s next in my life.