Goddess/Tennis Mom

So I’m taking Ax to tennis when I see one of my work colleagues, aka: a fellow mama, aka: Saffron, already hanging around while her kids chased balls around the court nearby.

“Hey Saff,” I greet her, while Ax goes off somewhere, “How’s it going? What’s the haps?”

“Holy effing shit this week was ba-na-nas,” says Saffron.

“You too? Mercury in retrograde,  full moon eclipse, everyone I know is bonkers.”

Saffron: “I was going to do some crazy crazy shit this week.”

Me: “But you didn’t.”

Saff: “True. I’m just, I can’t even.”

Me: “Are you in it or through it or… ?”

Saff: “I think coming through.  But it feels like I can’t even catch a breath so much is happening so fast and yet, like, nothing is actually happening.”

Me: “I totally get it.”

Pause.  Thwacking ball sounds.  Birds chirping.

Me: “What would the most supportive friend say or do right now?”

Saff: “I don’t even know.  I think you’re doing it.”

We watch her kids finish up their game and exit the court.  She grabs their backpacks and water bottles, and they head toward the parking lot.

“Good to see you,” she says.

“Good to see you,” I say.  “You are doing a really good job.  You are a goddess!!!” I call out to her.

“Yeah, a goddess slash tennis mom,” she says.

“It’s a good combo,” I say.

And then she and her kids trudge off and I go to watch Ax thwonk some balls.

I’m gonna keep going.

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