Life is funny.
By all accounts, we really shouldn’t have been friends. She, after all, had met, fallen in love with, and had a baby to the man I was still in love with. Life’s so funny.
I got over it, soon enough, though. He and I weren’t together when they met, so she wasn’t the reason we broke up. I realized that being an adult meant being open-minded, noble-minded and just plain mature than to hold a grudge against a younger woman who took no stock in hurting me intentionally. Besides that, he seemed to be happy. And so, if he was happy, I was happy for him.
I met her and the baby on the same day. She was at his mother’s home, and my ex’s mother (Barb) and I were still best of friends. That’s just how we roll. And even today, years later, we still do. So we were all there: Jody, her newborn, Trew, and me.
We chatted and laughed and talked about how he looked like “HIM.”
To my dismay, she was totally regal (Darn her!), young and beautiful. I wanted to hate her. But she had a way about her that was quite different from what I’d expected. She was polite, charming, and intelligent. We hit it off at once.
Turns out we had some things in common. We were both mothers who wanted only what was best for our children. We shared stories. And on occasion, even discussed “HIM.” I never thought I’d be able to handle that type of scenario, but…life’s funny that way.
One day, when Trew was about 13 months old, he wanted me to play with him (we were all at his Grandmother’s house, which had become our hangout). So I rolled around on the floor, walked him outside – while his mother was indoors talking to “our” mother-in-law, making calls (with her pretty little self) – whatever. He was with me, and she was quite okay with that. At this point we’d become a “pseudo” extended family. You know, almost but not quite there.
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