There are mother/daughter weekends. There are best friend weekends. And then, if you’re lucky, there are mother/daughter/best friend weekends.
I am very, very lucky.
My best friend from childhood and I have been fortunate enough to raise our daughter’s together since they were born. Even more fortunate is that our daughter’s are best friends. Genuinely. Not just because their mother’s are but because they absolutely love and adore each other.
Being with them, watching them, seeing them grow up together has been one of the greatest gifts for us. They kinda look like mini versions of us only they are way smarter, healthier, wiser and, well, more innocent than we ever were.
For a while now I have promised the four of us a mother/daughter/bff weekend at a hotel. One of the greatest joys of having a job is being able to treat my daughter and friends to moments that hopefully will last a lifetime.
I never want to be the kind of parent who promises something and doesn’t deliver. If I say we’re going to Disneyland we go. If I say we’re having a birthday cake for the dog, we do.
Even when I was unemployed and broke if I made a promise to do something I kept it. And if I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it, I didn’t make the promise. And believe me, there were plenty of things I couldn’t promise back then.
But I always want my daughter to know that her mother’s word counts. It means something. It’s not just empty fantasies or dreams to quiet her for the time being.
So, after a long wait for this promise to come about, I finally booked our mommy/daughter/bff weekend at The Montage Hotel in Beverly Hills.
I had visited this hotel in the past when other people had stayed there and I could only dream of staying there. To suddenly now be in a place in my own life where I could book a luxury suite — well, I’ve come a long way, baby!
I had mentioned to the reservation office that it was a special weekend for my best friend and our daughters. Much to our surprise when we arrived to our room there was a sweet welcoming note, four gift bags with all the essentials for a mani/pedi pajama party and two photo albums for our girls to fill in at the end of the trip.
We watched our daughters as they jumped into their plush robes, ordered room service and snuggled onto the enormous bed with us.
They actually wanted to be with us. Completely.
We spent 48 hours together eating, talking, swimming, devouring each other with love and affection. No distractions. Nowhere to be other than right where we were. In the moment. Sharing the experience as a group.
We took night jacuzzi soaks on the roof. We ordered dessert to the room at eleven at night. We took Polaroid pictures (YES, POLAROIDS ARE BACK, PEOPLE!). We talked about boys and sex and drugs and let it be known that they can come to us with anything and everything.
Most of all, we laughed. Laughed hard. Laughed long. Laughed until we were rolling around on the floor of the bathroom while doing our group mani/pedi.
Our daughter’s not only love us — they LIKE us. Like who we are. They walk with us arm in arm. They want to hear stories of our childhood. They even told us how beautiful they think we are.
Our daughter’s think we’re beautiful?!
Life moves so fast. We’re all so busy. Racing. Doing. Trying. Achieving. Failing. Worrying. Praying. Growing. And racing some more. To stop and take the time to be with our friends, our children… to remember that all that “doing” is ultimately for them but in the process we might be missing out on them… well, I say shut the door, get into bed, snuggle them close and stop. Stop everything.
Listening to our daughters, looking into their eyes as they spoke (or didn’t speak), touching their hair, holding their hands, kissing their faces…
Promises. Promises kept.
You want to give your children the world. So much. But what you realize is what they want most of all… is you.
As we checked out and gave a group hug my daughter held me so tight, beaming,
I love you, mommy. Thank you so much for this. This was… everything.