Jungle Fever > Baby Fever

JOONIEEEES.

Happy Monday!  I’m sure you’re all as excited as I am to start the week.  No really, for once I’m not hating on Monday because T-4 days till the weekend baby!

Anyway, I know here at S&F, we talk a lot about Persian parents and obviously sex.  But I’m over it.  I’ve decided no more sex for me… and no more parents…

Lies… where would I be without my crazy parents and crazy sex?  

Anyway, tonight’s topic is a little different than the rest, but hopefully just as crazy ;)

My first year of college, I lived with five girls… and five cats (but who’s counting). The five of us were/are extremely close, we did everything together– we studied together at the library, pulled all nighters on the same nights, partied, ate our meals together, etc.  We had everything in common (minus our taste in boys).

Then fast forward one year when I moved away for school.  Suddenly, my closest friend in the group calls and says she’s getting married, and within a few short weeks — another friend calls and says that not only is she getting married, but that she’s pregnant.

Jump ahead another two years and now, a third is getting married.  There are only two single girls left in the group, including me.  Today, three friends are married, two of which have children (including my closest friend in the group).

**Reality check: neither of them are PERSIAN.

And I really couldn’t be happier for them because it’s what they wanted.

But little did I know, that my relationship with them would change drastically – and there is nothing that I could do to stop it.  Back then, we bonded over our similar interests of chasing boys and taking shots.

Today, I listen to them talk about nipple pains, placentas and weaning (wtf is weaning).

This one’s for you bitches

** For those of you who need someone to explain what “placenta” means– (like I did, thanks MAMAN for excusing me from sex ed)- don’t look it up… really- it’s a NEED TO KNOW BASIS kinda thing.  I still can’t get past how fucking disgusting the word “placenta” sounds.

It’s so easy to just let go.  Nothing in common anymore? Fuck it, why should I call/keep in touch?

 But really, this is just a part of growing up.

I’ve accepted that IF I ever decide to get married, it won’t be anytime soon– and my college friends have chosen different paths in life than I have.  I’ve chosen to focus on my career only.  They’ve chosen love, marriage, children and careers.

What’s mutually inclusive for them is not for me.

And that’s okay – it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, it just means that there is an adjustment period that is clearly inevitable when you get to your mid 20s. Your conversation topics go from hot, black guys to the fact that their baby can finally eat solid foods.

Pregnancy and children absolutely horrify me.  I am still convinced that a stork will bring me my potential future baby- at least it helps me sleep at night.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t love my friend’s babies.  They are so freaking cute… and the best part is I can give them back when they poop, cry or get too heavy.

THIS. IS. HORRIFYING.

My biggest reality check came when I went to go visit my closest friend after she had her baby.  I was staying with her new, little family for the weekend and the baby was seriously adorable (even though, he pooped in my arms the first time I held him).  Until… she asked me to watch him when she went to go pick up her husband from a friend’s house.

“I’ll only be five minutes,” she said.

LIES.

It took an hour for her to get back and the SECOND she left, the baby started screaming.  I tried everything, I put him in the vibrating chair, I rocked him, I tried baby talking him (not my proudest moment), I even tried the Monica trick (watch 4 minutes and 13 seconds):

It was the scariest experience of my life– of course, the second she got home, he was putty her in her hands and I passed out at 8 pm from scarring realizations of how much work a baby really is and severe exhaustion.  No joke.

But while our lives were changing in opposite directions, my biggest concerns weren’t that it would be harder to maintain a friendship because a new little baby was in the picture– it was about potential judgement I would have to face because I may not always agree with their decisions and they sure as hell won’t agree with mine.

I worried that my lack of interest in meaningful relationships and decisions to have uncommitted sex would jeopardize their perceptions of me.

God Farrah, why are you such a whore?

Every time, my friend asked me whether I was dating someone or if I saw myself getting married- I used to get this initial sense of insecurity.

She’s probably judging me right now because I don’t want those things.”  

I was worried to tell her if I had sex with someone who wasn’t my boyfriend– every time, my number increased I was afraid that she would think differently of me because of it.

And it took me awhile to get over the fact that just because we have different lifestyles doesn’t mean we are different than the friends we used to be.

Because here’s the truth about friends– there is no way you’re going to have everything in common forever.  If that were the case, then none of us would ever grow out of our college mentalities and that’s just sad.

If someone is your real friend, then they’ll never judge you for your actions– friends are there to be your support system when you need them the most despite whatever “mistakes” you (or them) might make.

You might have partied together, hooked up with some of the same douchebag frat boys, but if you’re still the same person you were at 21, then you really don’t have a lot to be proud of.  And in reality, I’m proud of all my friends.

They’ve surpassed any judgmental notion I had of young mothers and proven me wrong.

And I know I can turn to them whether I was f#cked over by some loser or just had a crazy night of sex, and they’ll either comfort me or tease me for being such a shitshow (NO judgement).

I’m really lucky that I am able to maintain my bonds DESPITE our differences– and despite the fact that they have mini-me’s running around like the world is a fucking playground (it really is though, #truestory). <3

Do you?

SEXANDFESSENJOON@GMAIL.COM

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No BABYFEVER here,

FARRAH فرح
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