It's a beautiful day.

my little godson, jackson.

Last December my best friend, Lisa D., had a baby.  A sweet little baby boy with wide open eyes and kissable cheeks. And although she is nowhere near the first of my friends that I have witnessed enter the mommy-army, something about seeing her become a mother has been unusually endearing.

I still remember the day we met.  It was the first week of our first year of medical school and we had parked near each other in the parking garage.  She struck up a conversation with me on our way into class, introducing herself to me in her very Lisa way and even pointing out that, "Hey, we both have freckles!" We became fast friends, and eventually like sisters.

as freckle-faced medical students, Nashville 1994

Lisa has held my hand through just about every pivotal moment in my life since. From knee-buckling heartbreaks to our medical school graduation to the night Harry and I met all the way up to holding my bouquet as the honor attendant on my wedding day.

she did all the worrying for me on my wedding day.

good and pregnant as her honor attendant.

In those first few days when I first became a mother and sat cross legged on the floor weeping out of frustration from breastfeeding hiccups, she was the one who shrugged and said, "It's okay. You're already an amazing mother. No matter what happens with this breastfeeding thing, Isaiah is still the luckiest baby in the world. . . .so just relax, Kim. Relax and stop trying to be perfect."

I remember and appreciate those words to this very day.

Isaiah with his godmommy, Lisa

Last year when she told me in confidence that she was pregnant I thought I would explode.  I was sworn to secrecy but felt my heart growing with so much anticipation of seeing her become a mother that it was hard to contain.  I tucked a Mother's Day card into her purse last year when she was only a few weeks into the pregnancy, knowing that she'd scold me but not knowing where else to place my enthusiasm.

women can't be friends? ba-loney.

Not everything in life has come easy for my friend Lisa. But getting the motherhood thing? Honestly? It is the role she was born to play. Never have I seen a person make motherhood look more like a piece of cake. I mean it-- Lisa makes every aspect of it look effortless, kind of like stirring pudding batter or drinking water.  Not in that "I'm-the-perfect-mommy-and-I-make-all-of-my-baby's-organic-baby-food" annoying kind of way, either. But in a way that is quietly confident and self assured.  None of the awkward attempts (like I had) at getting her baby to latch on to her breast or those perpetually overwhelmed expressions (like I also had.) No frumpy post-partum-but-still-in-maternity-clothes appearances or hair that looks like a bird's nest. Nope, not her. Even going back to work for her was seamless and easy like Sunday morning.

And I have loved seeing it.  Every second of it.

I'll admit that part of it for me has been selfish. The shared joy of motherhood between us is something I'd looked forward to for years.  And now that it is here? It's a beautiful day.

super-mom

 So today, I am reflecting on the joy of real true friendships. My friendship with Lisa has not been a perfect one--we'd both tell you that. But I can't imagine my life without her in it. So even when we have misunderstandings or growing pains, we've never stopped holding hands. I guess that's what real friendships are about.

more super-mom

So with that in mind, I'm also reflecting on how happy it has made me to personally witness the evolution of a true friend entering a new phase of life. I'm thinking about how it feels to see someone I love so dearly winning.  Because Lisa is winning. Winning at the mommy thing, winning at the life-change thing, and just winning in general.  Which means that, as a person who loves and cares about her, I am winning, too.

never fear. super-mom is here.

You see, friends root for friends. Whether they are winning or losing, they root for each other. They bring snacks after games and clean up boo-boos and say, "You'll get 'em next time." They pat you on the back and nudge you to get back into the game when you'd prefer to hang your head on the sidelines.

And.

They also scream until they're hoarse and wave a big foam #1 finger just for you because you are their home team.  And that's what I'm doing today.  I am standing on the bleachers. Squeezing an air horn. Hollering, "Go! Go! Go! Go!" on behalf of my best friend as she sprints out of the mommy-race blocks.  And she's out in front, man. She's like Flo-Jo leaping over the hurdles with her hair flying behind her, looking beautiful and gazelle-like. And me? I'm head-to-to in best-friend paraphernalia, cheering for her and rooting for her, just as she has done for me over and over and over again.

almost famous super-friends

famous super-friends

Last summer Lisa met Gayle King--as in Oprah Winfrey's bff, Gayle King.  In her very Lisa way, she marched right up to Gayle and introduced herself, sharing details with Ms. King of her own best friend--me.  She went on to tell her that she was "my Gayle."  Ha.  If only she knew how many times she'd been my Oprah.

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I hope you are rooting for someone.  And even more? I hope that someone special and necessary has been holding your hand and rooting for you, too.

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Happy Sunday. It's a beautiful day.