Post # 8 from my recycled series – This one is from May 2015, new pictures added 🙂
Booop Booop Booop – that’s my poor rendition of the skype ring tone – …Booop. Oh My God, Maja’s calling! “Hush up!” I say to the kids. Maja and I had been playing Skype tag for almost 6 months, finally a tangible chance to actually click that little phone icon and actually for realsies talk to BFF girl (#2)…and see her face even!
I just got off of Skype where Maja and I chatted for nearly an hour and a half. …Okay, more like two hours…. two and a half tops! We’ve been BFFs for 16 or so years now and I still learn new things about her every time we talk – and vice versa – and yet it is always so familiar and just the same when we talk.
Now, in addition to her 3 year old, she has a 4 month old. This baby is the main reason we hadn’t been able to do our regular skype dates over the past few months… but one glimpse of his poof of hair and his cockeyed grin and…well… who could be mad?
I made the observation, after shooing my kids to bed and after her littlest puked on her, that who knew? Who knew that we would end up one day, still friends, chatting away being mums and changing poopie nappies or getting puked on together? Even continents apart and we can still somewhat do this – be BFFs and raise kids together. My daughter, Emma, telling her daughter “I love you forever!” as she signed off and resigned herself to her bedtime. One day they’ll meet in person. My son and her daughter were born a month apart – so OBVIOUSLY we are arranging their marriage already And then her baby son was born within a month of Svea’s daughter… so there you go. One day we’ll not only be BFFs, we’ll be family too… right? Right. Let us dream about it at least
It’s just such a strange concept to think about the shenanigans we got up to (when she wasn’t grounded) in High School… and now we are Mums. Relatively upstanding ones at that. Our conversations don’t always make us appear as such, however; when we reminisce or reveal memories to one another that the other didn’t know about at the time.
Oh the words that have to be said in Swedish so our kids won’t catch on. But then mine go to bed and hers are in another room, so we let the expletives fly after a little while.
Today she pulled out the yearbooks. I lost mine many years ago in Hurricane Katrina – a sad sad day. I love pictures, I love memories – as if you couldn’t tell by now… losing my year books was a sad sad day. She held the pictures up to the screen for me to see, to remind me of someone she was telling me about that I didn’t remember… “Oh, yeah… him… Oh! There’s the kid that died!”
“That one, in the sweater… no… over… yeah, yeah that one.”
in the middle – kid that died
“How did I not know this?” She asked.
“You must have, Maja! He died in first year – got hit by a bus… remember? That’s how I got off the waiting list and into ESb in second semester… I took his spot.”
“Maja, seriously? It was your class first – how could you not have known that?”
“Maybe I did… I guess I just forgot…. Oo… Look, there’s Dan!”
“Haha, yup I remember that pic… that wasn’t even his class… he was in EN, remember? You’re gonna scan these for me, right?”
The picture we were discussing. Dan is hidden in this ES3A photo, though he was actually in an EN3 class. (I won’t point him out so as to keep a semblance of privacy lol)
“Yeah, oh… AH!”
That’s when the boy puked on her.
We’ll take a pause while she wipes him up…
I learned some more specifics about the antics she got up to with John when I wasn’t around… I knew they hung out some back then, but didn’t have all the details. I learned about when she was in her excessive party days after Gymnasium, she met Owen Wilson and Axel Rose. …Starting to sound like maybe I should have stayed in Stockholm a little longer, huh?
I told her that though I saw several celebrities out and about in Stockholm when I was there – the one that sticks in my head is walking past Tomas Di Leva on the street… he turned and acknowledged me as he passed by. Doing a little bow. I told her he had this look on his face that made me feel like he wanted to say “Blessings on you my child” and then recruit me into a cult.
“He probably wanted you for a sister wife.”
I would rather have met Axel Rose.