I met
Amanda my first day of college in 1990 in Portland, as she rolled her cello off the plane.
She has been my rock-solid friend all these years. She’s the first girlfriend I called to say, “I have to tell you something. When can I see you?” (I’d just taken the at-home pregnancy test.)
Soon after I became a single mom, Amanda was transitioning out of her day job to pursue her music career. With a bit more free time, she offered to take care of Mae. Those two had some wild adventures: Amanda strapped Mae in the Baby Bjorn to stroll around the East Village. She snapped photos of Mae when she took first steps. She made sweet potatoes and mashed them just right. When Mae got older, Amanda convinced me to get a baby bike seat so she could pedal Mae around Manhattan (that’s how much I trusted her).
I’ve found that single motherhood really shows you who your true friends are. If you’re married — and your whole social network is married couples — becoming a single mom can rock the boat. Did this happen to any of you?
Who stayed beside your side when you were a weepy mess? Who listened to you rant about your heartbreak, when your friend knew very wall that going solo was probably for the best in the end?
That was “Aunt Amanda” for sure, as Mae calls her. This weekend, Amanda’s band, Girl Friday, came through the Bay Area on tour. I let Mae stay up super-late to hear her “Aunt Amanda” play. (Thus the photo of the three us of outside Thee Parkside, with Mae being super goofy.)
How has single motherhood changed your friendships with women? Tell me how–
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