To my seasoned, knowledgeable, forgiving best friends who jumped off the cliff into motherhood long before I did:

I’m sorry I ever uttered the words “I’m so tired” in your presence; I had no idea what tired really means.

I’m sorry I bought you that book about making homemade organic baby food. REALLY sorry.

I’m sorry I thought it was fun for my boyfriend and I to be your house guests when you were a few days from giving birth. What was I thinking?

I’m sorry I called you crying about my single girl drama when you had babies and toddlers and husbands needing you 24/7. I know now that talking on the phone when you have small children is pure torture; I don’t know how or why you made time to listen.

I’m sorry for not shutting up when you were sleep deprived. I didn’t know what it does to your attention span. I should have sat with you in silence and rubbed your feet.

I’m sorry for not bringing you food. I should have done your dishes. Or taken out your garbage. Or folded your laundry. I remember the day you made me lunch while you fed your toddler and made a cake. Are you human?

I’m sorry for not coming over more. We could have watched TV in our sweats after the kids were in bed. Why did I think you would want to meet me downtown for margaritas?

I’m sorry about my baby envy and for letting it get in the way of my ability to be fully present for you.

I’m sorry for being totally oblivious to your kids’ meal and nap schedules.

Thank you for standing by me through my self-absorbed years while you wiped butts and scrubbed vomit and soothed screaming babies and forgot about yourself while I obsessed over totally meaningless things.

I wish I would have told you what an amazing job you were doing every day.

I am so truly grateful to (still) be your friend.

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